


Wolf's Eyes

by PeaceHeather



Series: Merlin fics [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out, Dreamsharing, Gen, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12997281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceHeather/pseuds/PeaceHeather
Summary: Merlin took the cup into his hands. "I'm sorry," he said.  "This isn't how I wanted you to find out." He took a drink, and his eyes glowed gold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece that I worked on while procrastinating on other fics. It's a little disjointed in spots, and I'm still trying to decide whether I want to go back and clean things up a bit, tighten the plot a little, drop superfluous scenes, wrap up a few hanging loose ends, all that good stuff... but all in all, I like it and I hope you will too. Needless to say, this is pretty much unbetaed, although [Shi_Toyu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shi_toyu) was kind enough to look over some of the earlier chapters for me.

"Welcome, Arthur Pendragon," said the queen. "Welcome to Elmet."

Elmet. Also known on most maps as "the Perilous Lands", where the Fisher King had been said to reside. The area had been known as a barren wasteland filled with vicious creatures and poisonous plants; the people one was likely to encounter, few though they were, were generally just as dangerous. Until last year, only the truly desperate would have traveled there.

And yet, here Arthur was, with Merlin and his company, in a land suddenly gone green and lush. "My lady," he said, bowing over her hand. "You have me at a disadvantage. Your envoy did not see fit to give me your name."

"I am the daughter of the Fisher King," said the queen, ignoring the way Arthur's knights shifted uneasily. "You may call me Mathildis."

"Lady Mathildis," said Arthur. "I am honored by your invitation, and congratulate you on coming into your kingdom."

Mathildis smiled knowingly, as if she could see Arthur's confusion behind the pleasantry of his greeting.

They were shown to guest rooms in a castle that Arthur remembered as an abandoned near-ruin, but was now as respectable as any other palace Arthur had visited. It was not as grand as Camelot, perhaps, but few places were. The tapestries were bright and the rushes on the floor smelled sweet. There were few servants, but the real mystery was that the place had been restored at all, never mind that it was done so quickly.

Of course, the same could be said of all of Elmet that they had seen so far. The land was still sparsely populated, and Arthur's company and their escort had fought off a pack of wyverns before making their way safely to the castle, but it was a far cry from the wasteland they had seen when Arthur was here last. Back then, he had come only to retrieve the Fisher King's trident and complete his quest. Now…

Now, he still wasn't completely sure why he was here.

"It makes no sense," he said to Merlin, who stood looking out the window and across the countryside. "What ruler deliberately chooses to cede land to other kingdoms without losing it in a war?"

"Well, this place was practically empty only a couple of years ago," said Merlin. "Maybe she doesn't have enough people living here yet to work the land for her."

"How is she claiming to be the Fisher King's _daughter_ , though," Arthur muttered to himself. He stepped up beside Merlin and propped his elbows on the windowsill, admiring the view. There was a little town forming around the castle, and the people they'd seen, while not especially prosperous looking, had seemed friendly enough. A far cry from the desperate outlaws that would have roamed this place not long ago.

"Well. You know the legends," said Merlin carefully.

"Yes, Merlin, I know the legends. A king who was a sorcerer, and when he was wounded in battle, caused his kingdom to suffer with him, dying as he died."

"I, er, heard it differently," said Merlin. Arthur frowned at him, but he continued, oblivious or immune to Arthur's annoyance. "He didn't cause the land to suffer out of malice; it just happened, because the king is tied to the land. Just as you are tied to Camelot's wellbeing."

"I'm no sorcerer," scoffed Arthur.

"No, but you love your kingdom. You know the people and the land, and if anything were to happen to you, Camelot _would_ suffer."

Merlin had a habit of speaking uncomfortable truths. "The Fisher King was a legend," said Arthur. "He was supposed to have died over two hundred years ago. So how is Mathildis his daughter?"

If Arthur hadn't been watching closely, he might have missed the way Merlin's expression went all shifty for a moment. "Maybe it's figurative? Like a title. The way your heirs could still be said to be of Uther's house, even though Uther would never know them."

"Or maybe sorcery _is_ involved someh—" He cut off abruptly, eyes widening at the sight out the window. "Look. Look there!"

A group of children were playing, seeming to throw a ball back forth between them; their laughter and shouts could be heard faintly echoing up the hillside to the castle.

But the ball was glowing, obvious even in the daylight, and sometimes it vanished into thin air, only to reappear again from nowhere a moment later.

"What _is_ that?" Arthur found himself reaching for his sword out of habit, and of course Merlin noticed.

"I don't think it's anything harmful," he said, edging away.

Arthur had to concede that it didn't seem to be anything dangerous, but even so, "It's _sorcery_. Out in the open. It's like they're _flaunting_ it."

"They're only children," said Merlin. "And this isn't Camelot. Maybe they don't view magic the same way here."

"With the legends claiming the Fisher King to be a sorcerer, I suppose that makes sense. Still." Arthur turned away with a shiver, ignoring the way Merlin watched him. "Maybe Mathildis is ceding her lands to us as a bribe, to get us to ignore her people's magic."

"I'm not sure that's it either," said Merlin.

"Well, we'll find out tonight. Although I'm no longer looking forward to the evening's feast as much as I had been."

"You don't think Queen Mathildis means you harm, do you?"

Arthur sighed. "It's unwise to assume she doesn't." He met his servant's eyes, hoping the other man would take his warning seriously for a change. "Be on your guard, Merlin."

* * *

 

Merlin managed to find his way to the kitchens and introduce himself, a few hours before the feast was to start. The staff there were friendly enough, if a little brusque. Merlin didn't fault them for that; there was a feast coming on and he knew how hard the kitchen staff at Camelot worked whenever there was a special occasion. The people here at Elmet seemed harried, but only in the way that all palace kitchens seemed to be at such times.

At least three of the kitchen staff were sorcerers.

Merlin watched as one of the women set a pot to stirring itself, then turned her back on it and began rolling out dough. It was such a familiar sight from all the times he'd done his chores for Arthur that he couldn't help but smile.

"You're not afraid of magic?" asked another maid, using her own to reach hanging herbs down from the ceiling.

Merlin thought about it. "Well. Sometimes."

"You're from Camelot," said the maid, not unkindly. "You don't have sorcery there except for the people who seek revenge against Uther's tyranny."

"It's hard not to fear sorcery when you only see it used to kill," said Merlin.

"Well, we don't waste our time with such things here in Elmet," she replied tartly. "We've better things to be doing. Besides, magic like that…" She stopped and shivered. "I can't imagine killing someone in such an intimate fashion. Can you, Edra?"

"I can't imagine killing someone at all," said an older woman. Her eyes glowed, and a washbasin full of water began to steam as she dropped dirty utensils into it. "But I know what you mean. Magic is too personal."

"I see," said Merlin thoughtfully. He cast his mind back to the people he'd killed over the years. He'd flung them into walls, or dropped heavy objects on them, or redirected a weapon that was aimed at him back onto his opponent. He'd never reached into a person to stop their heart, though, nor performed any of the other spells he'd read about that could end a life. The closest he'd come to blasting someone with magical energy directly was when he'd used the Sidhe staff.

It was true; magic was too personal. He hadn't realized it consciously, but he would have felt violated, unclean, if he'd ever killed someone with purely his own magic.

"I see," he said again. He looked up to see the older woman watching him. "Do many people here in Elmet have magic?"

She snorted a little. "The people Uther wanted to slaughter had to flee somewhere, didn't they?"

"So they all came here?"

She shrugged, and plunged her hands into the hot water up to her elbows. "I wouldn't know. Probably not _all_ of them. And these lands were a dangerous place to be until recently."

Merlin nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

"Something else, you mean?"

Merlin huffed a laugh. "It's only, your queen introduced herself as the Fisher King's daughter. And I was just wondering if that was… I don't know. A figure of speech, maybe?"

"Ah." The woman pulled a few clean spoons out of the water and dropped more dirty ones in. "It's said that while the Fisher King suffered, all the land was held between living and dying. Neither here nor there, you follow? And that included the people, neither living nor dying, not even really _here_ but somewhere else… between the worlds. And then when he was given mercy, the land was able to move forward and heal, and some people who had been missing—neither here nor there—came back." She sniffed, and scrubbed an arm across her steam-dampened forehead. "It's said the queen was one of those."

"So she's… two hundred years old?"

One of the other women laughed, overhearing. "Does our queen look like an ancient crone to you?"

The younger maid spoke up then. "Well, I wouldn't know of course, but _I'd_ think that if she was caught _between_ like they say, then she would have just dreamt it all away. And for her it would have felt like only a few moments' time, from when she went away to when she came back."

"So she really could be the Fisher King's own daughter."

"Like I said, silly, I wouldn't know. But it doesn't matter. She's our queen and the people love and respect her for all she's done."

Merlin nodded, and dropped the subject. He wanted to learn, but he wasn't there to spy and didn't want to risk being treated as one.

* * *

 

The food was good, the people from Elmet were welcoming to Arthur's entourage, and Queen Mathildis provided interesting conversation without dragging the talk into political matters. Arthur had grown up at court and knew well the art of double talk and innuendo, but Mathildis seemed to have little interest in such things. Or rather, she seemed to be sounding out Arthur's character, if he had to guess, rather than his stance on any specific policy. Or perhaps she was waiting for him to make the first move in the dance.

After the second course, while the musicians played, he obliged her. "I confess I still have not been able to fathom why you would wish to cede lands to Camelot," he said.

"I have not yet decided whether or not I will," said Mathildis.

Arthur couldn't help the trace of a frown. "I don't understand. Your envoy…"

"My envoy told the truth," said the queen. "I do intend to cede these lands to you; however, I must be certain that the king who receives them is worthy of the gift."

"And how do you intend to measure my worthiness?" It would be just Arthur's luck to have to face a champion in a fight to the death, or go on a quest where he had to deal with yet another sorcerer trying to kill him. Over his shoulder, Arthur felt Merlin's presence, quiet and tense as he refilled Arthur's wine and listened to the queen's words.

"We will drink from the Cup of Truth," said Mathildis. "Or it is known in some texts as the Cup of Trust. It is a simple ritual."

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "A drink? Nothing more?"

"Ah. Of course you do not understand," said Mathildis. "The Cup is enchanted. I had forgotten you would be unaware of that fact."

"I have dealt with enough enchantments to last me a long time, my lady," warned Arthur, but the queen only laughed.

"Not like this. We will all drink, everyone in my retinue and everyone in yours. Those whom the Cup deems trustworthy will enter the council chamber, and together we will craft the treaty between our two peoples."

"The Cup measures… trustworthiness?"

Mathildis tipped her head thoughtfully. "The one who fills the Cup determines the criteria which must be met. Thereafter, the Cup measures each person who drinks according to those criteria."

"And what will your criteria be, my lady?"

The queen smiled again. "If I told you that, it would alter the outcome of the test."

Of course it would. "And those who do not pass your test—what happens to them?"

"Nothing. I would not allow my guests to come to harm. They simply will not be permitted into the council chamber." She shrugged, and added, "I would not have either of us swayed by the advice of those who did not have our best interests at heart."

Arthur wanted to say more, but the queen cut him off. "Ah. The entertainment is ready. I hope you will enjoy it, though it may seem strange by Camelot's standards."

A trio of musicians struck up a new tune, and Arthur sat back, prepared to listen and applaud politely—except that a fourth person stepped into the space between the tables and set up a brazier, lighting it not with a hot coal or a torch from the wall, but with a gesture and a muttered word under her breath.

A sorceress!

Around him, Arthur saw his knights sit up at attention, instantly wary, some of them setting their hands to hilts; on the other hand, however, the members of Mathildis's court merely leaned forward in curiosity.

The sorceress took a pouch from her belt and shook out some powder into her hand, which she then cast into the brazier. The fire immediately began to crackle and spit sparks everywhere; the sorceress held out a hand in a beckoning gesture, and the sparks began to…

Well, to dance.

As the musicians played, the sorceress caused the sparks to move in time with the music. They formed circles in the air, then groups of three that whirled around one another and around her, then simple swirls of light and back again. The sparks still cooled and went out, but the brazier kept spitting more, and she would pull them into the formation. Her hand gestures seemed almost a part of the dance, and after a moment she began to dance herself, gracefully turning and dipping, stepping delicately around the brazier to the rhythm of the music.

It was beautiful, Arthur had to admit. Unnerving as hell, but beautiful.

He caught himself before he could become too enthralled by the performance, and glanced quickly about the hall. In his experience, a moment like this would provide the perfect distraction for an assassin to come crashing through the window, or for a crossbow bolt or a blade to suddenly be heading for his neck; all he saw, however, was the rest of the audience watching raptly, applauding as the sorceress created an especially complicated pattern with the floating sparks.

He looked over his shoulder to see what Merlin thought, and found the man captivated and grinning like a loon. The pure delight on his face was… reassuring, though Arthur would never admit it.

The music ended with a flourish, and the dancer—the sorceress—did as well, sweeping her hands wide and extinguishing the brazier as she bowed low. The flames went out completely, without even a hint of smoke from coals that should have still at least smoldered a little, and as the sorceress straightened with a smile, the audience burst into cheers and applause. Arthur saw that about half his knights were clapping as well, while the rest still looked distinctly uncomfortable. Arthur couldn't say that he blamed them, even as he added his applause to the rest.

Mathildis beckoned, and the sorceress passed her brazier to a servant and then stepped up to the high table. Up close, she was younger than Arthur had expected, younger than either him or Merlin to be sure, and there was a light sheen of sweat on her upper lip and at her temples. She curtseyed gracefully, first to Mathildis and then to Arthur.

The queen passed her a pouch that clinked when the girl took it. "It's always a pleasure to see you perform, Astrith," she said.

"And it is likewise always a pleasure to entertain my queen." Astrith dimpled, and curtseyed again to Arthur. "I hope you enjoyed it as well, my lord."

"I have never seen anything like it," said Arthur, which was entirely the truth, and said nothing of how unnerved he was by the entire thing.

Astrith smiled and actually blushed, clearly pleased with his answer. "Thank you, my lord. By your leave, my queen?"

"Go and rest," said Mathildis. "You have outdone yourself tonight." When she was gone, the queen turned to Arthur. "That was a gracious reply, for a man of Camelot," she said, looking a little amused but not maliciously so.

"It has been very rare for me to encounter a sorcerer that did not intend harm to me or Camelot," he countered. "You cannot blame me for being… cautious… where magic is concerned."

"Of course," said the queen. "But I think you already know the origin of much of the malice behind the sorcerers who come seeking you, Arthur, son of Uther."

Arthur had to sigh at that. "I do."

"You are not your father," said Mathildis, eyes measuring. "At least, I think you are not. The Cup will determine that for certain tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Mathildis scheduled the talks to begin after midday, and encouraged Arthur and his entourage to spend the morning exploring the town, sparring with her knights, and generally getting to know the people of Elmet. Most rulers in Arthur's experience were reluctant to give their visiting delegations quite so much freedom, so Arthur, Merlin, and his closest knights took full advantage of it, wandering through the market and observing the people. At Arthur's suggestion, they left their red cloaks behind and Arthur did not wear his crown, wanting to see how the people behaved toward him without the trappings of royalty skewing their behavior. There weren't as many people here as in Camelot's market, to be sure, but they were clean and cheerful, crying their wares as heartily as any merchant in his home kingdom.

Still, it was impossible to mistake Elmet for Camelot, for the very simple reason that magic was _everywhere_ here. The merchants sold supplies for it; the townspeople managed their chores with it; the children played with it. Not everyone seemed to have it, but no one batted an eye when they saw it being used in front of them. Arthur startled when a load of thatch launched itself upward right next to him, and looked up to see the thatcher standing on the roof give a friendly wave and a "Sorry!"

Merlin was gawking like a, well, like exactly what he was, a peasant in the big city. Far from looking unnerved, though, he had an expression of wonder and delight on his face that never wavered. He laughed when he saw the children at the town well, using magic to splash one another with water and shrieking as they got thoroughly soaked.

Arthur had always suspected that not all magic was evil, but to see it used so _freely_ like this… he was completely unprepared. It was all he could do not to stare as wide-eyed and open-mouthed as Merlin, but he had his dignity and the royal image to maintain.

Speaking of Merlin, where had he gone? Arthur frowned, then saw him ducking out of a little shop whose sign simply read "Healer", clutching a sack in one hand and a book in the other.

"Merlin," he drawled, " _please_ tell me you haven't just bought something I'll be forced to _burn_ once we return to Camelot."

"What?" He looked down at the book, then finally registered what Arthur was talking about. "It's for Gaius," he said. "He's always looking to learn more, stay current with medical developments, that sort of thing."

Arthur stepped closer, lowering his voice. "And you're sure that's not a book of magic?" he asked. "Look around you, Merlin, everything here has sorcery running through it, some way or another."

"It's a book of herbal remedies," said Merlin, rolling his eyes. "And the bag is full of herbs that don't grow in Camelot."

"Hand it over, then."

"What?"

"The book. Hand it over."

Merlin squinted at him as if _Arthur_ were the dim one. "It's being in markets in general that turns you into an ass, isn't it?"

Arthur made a swipe at the book, but Merlin dodged back surprisingly quickly. "I just want to see it," Arthur cajoled, as the knights snickered.

"No; you'll just drop it in the mud," said Merlin.

"I'm your _king_ , Merlin, you can't say no to me."

"You're an _ass_ , and it's never stopped me before."

"I only want to be sure it isn't full of spells!"

"Oh, like _you'd_ know what a book of magic would even look like."

"I'd know better than _you_ ," Arthur growled, and it was true; he'd confiscated his share over the years. "It's a miracle you can even read."

"Fine then, see for yourself, you great prat!" Merlin shoved the book into his chest hard enough to rock Arthur backward a step. "I highly recommend page forty-five, it's got a nice thorough description of a rash on the scrotum and how to cure it." He glared, as Arthur's lip curled in disgust. "There are _pictures._ Really _detailed_ pictures. _Lifelike._ "

Arthur passed it back without opening it. "Ugh, fine, you can keep the damn thing. You great baby."

"Oh, are you sure, _sire_ , you wanted to look at it so badly—"

"And now I don't."

"But you were so insistent, I can read the description to you if you like, prove I'm _literate_ —"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Arthur pretended not to hear Gwaine behind them, muttering something about an old married couple while Elyan covered a laugh. Merlin, for his part, scowled for a solid two minutes before he spotted a sweets vendor and bounded off like an overgrown puppy, and balance was restored to the universe.

Arthur rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn't amused. Idiot.

* * *

 

Merlin's skin had been tingling for days with all the magic in the air, in the water and the soil and the houses and the… the everything, here in Elmet. He could feel it moving constantly, and it called to him and made him want to _come and play_ in ways that would likely end very badly for him if he wasn't very, very careful.

Now, in the great hall just outside the throne room, Merlin was nervous, pulling at the hem of his clean tunic until Arthur glared at him and he stopped. This ceremony involved something called the Cup of Truth, and measured trustworthiness, and Queen Mathildis was insisting that everyone in both her court and Arthur's entourage drink from it before they could sit down to negotiate this land treaty.

Merlin considered himself to be someone Arthur could trust without question, but he had a bad feeling that the lies he'd told, protecting himself, protecting Arthur, would make the Cup reject him, and then Arthur would want to know why. Or possibly the Cup had some magic to it that would bring all the lies and secrets out into the open.

It would kill Arthur to learn everything that Merlin had hidden from him. He'd had so many people betray him. He would never, ever believe that Merlin wasn't one of them, if he found out.

He tugged at the hem of his shirt again, and again Arthur gave him an exasperated look to make him stop. He was nervous, too, Merlin could tell, but he was doing a better job of hiding it than Merlin was. He always did.

Finally Mathildis and her entourage came through the archway from the hallway and into the chamber. There were only about twelve of them including servants, and Merlin was bemused to see that at least a few of the nobles looked just as nervous as he felt. Astrith, the sorceress who had performed last night, walked directly behind the queen, bearing a cushion on which sat a vessel made of beaten bronze that was more bowl than cup. It had a thick, flat base, square-shaped, so that it wouldn't tip when set down, but no stem, and was large enough that it would have to be held with both hands. Filled, it would easily provide enough to drink for everyone in the room, with a bit left over.

"Arthur," said the queen, nodding respectfully.

"My lady," said Arthur. He eyed the cup a bit warily, or perhaps the sorceress, but Merlin saw him pull his gaze away to meet the queen's eyes once more. "You did not tell me much of the ceremony at last night's feast, and my people know nothing of it. Will you tell us what to expect?"

"There is little to tell," said Mathildis. "Observe."

Astrith set the cushion down, then lifted the bowl for them all to see. "The Cup of Truth," she said simply. A servant stepped forward with a pitcher, but it was the queen who took it and began to pour. It looked like clear, pure water, but Merlin knew well that poisons and potions could be made that were colorless. With magic, they might even be hidden completely.

"If we could arrange ourselves in a circle," said Astrith, and the queen's people immediately shuffled forward. Merlin glanced at Arthur, but there was really no reason not to obey this request, so his entourage, mostly knights and four or five councilors, began to move as well.

"Now, let us see those whom we may trust," said the queen, and filled the bowl almost to the brim. Astrith held it steady, not spilling a drop, though it grew visibly heavier in her arms.

Finally Mathildis took the Cup from her and faced Arthur. "There is little of ceremony to this ritual," she said. "Take a mouthful only, like so," and without fanfare, she held the Cup to her lips and drank. Her eyes fell shut, but Merlin, watching for trickery, saw her swallow and lick her lips.

A flicker of light like a candle flame washed up the queen's hands and across her face. She took a breath, and her eyes slid open again.

They were glowing gold.

Arthur's people murmured in unease, some of the older knights gripping the hilts of their swords; meanwhile, some of Mathildis's entourage murmured as well, but their approval was clear in their tone and in their faces. A few nodded in apparent satisfaction.

"Look like wolf's eyes," muttered one of Arthur's men; Arthur either didn't hear or chose not to say anything.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked.

"Our queen intends to treat fairly with you," said Astrith. "It shows in her eyes. The gold color indicates also that she has magic."

Merlin swallowed in a throat gone suddenly dry. But perhaps Arthur would keep him out of the council chamber. He was only a servant, after all; he didn't need to be there.

The queen passed the Cup to Astrith, who drank; she gasped and smiled, and her eyes immediately lit up gold, as did her fingertips. She smiled at them after passing the cup to the man next to her.

He drank, and nothing happened. His eyes remained the same brown as before, and whatever had made the other two women inhale sharply didn't seem to affect him.

"You may go, Nicholas," said the queen. Her eyes were still glowing.

"My queen—"

"You have told me your objections before, Nicholas."

"And I will repeat them, for all to hear!" Nicholas glared at Arthur's men, and at Arthur. "He is the son of Uther Pendragon. Do you really expect him to deal fairly with magic users? Do you expect him to care for his new citizens, if you cede this land to him? Because I think he will only continue his father's slaughter, and then push further inland to make war against Elmet."

"I am not my father, Lord Nicholas—"

"That remains to be seen," the other man spat.

"Nicholas! Enough," said Mathildis sharply. "You are dismissed."

Nicholas glared around at them all once more, then turned and stormed out of the chamber.

"My queen," said an older man in her group, "I do not wish to be deemed untrustworthy, but Lord Nicholas does raise a fair point. The King of Camelot has not yet drunk of the Cup himself. I know that you intend to treat fairly with him. What if he does not intend to treat fairly with us?"

Arthur drew himself up, lips thinning with resolve, and Merlin just knew he was going to step forward.

Leon's hand on Arthur's arm stopped him. "Sire," he said, low in Arthur's ear, but Merlin could just hear him. "Let me drink first. Just as a precaution."

Arthur nodded, and Leon stepped forward and took a sip. The same flicker of light spread across his hands and face, and he took a sharp breath, blinking rapidly. "Oh," he softly, and several knights leaned forward to see what happened. Leon looked at his king, and his normally blue eyes were glowing green.

"Sir Leon?" Arthur called sharply.

"I'm fine, sire," he said. "It tastes… clean." He shook his head a little. "Or cleansing. I can't describe it any better than that."

"Your knight is trustworthy," said Astrith. "And he has no magic of his own to alter the color of the enchantment, so his eyes will show the green of the earth until the council session has ended."

Leon turned to Elyan. "They're glowing?" he asked in a low voice, and Elyan simply nodded. Leon turned back to Arthur. "I feel no different, sire, other than what I have described."

Arthur was clearly reluctant, eying Leon warily, but he nodded, and took the Cup himself. He drank, and closed his eyes, and inhaled sharply as he swallowed.

His eyes, when he opened them, glowed silver. They reminded Merlin of a hawk's eyes, sharp and focused.

"Born of magic," said Mathildis in surprise. "I had not expected that. You have none of your own, but you are steeped in it nevertheless."

Arthur set his jaw, clearly uncomfortable, and Merlin couldn't blame him. Here was his father's darkest secret, Arthur's secret shame even though it had never been his fault, laid bare for everyone in the room to see. "Am I considered trustworthy, or not?" Arthur asked, barely keeping the growl out of his voice.

"Indeed," said Mathildis.

"I am satisfied, my queen," said the older man. "And in apology to the king of Camelot, I will drink next, if you permit it."

She nodded, and Arthur passed him the great bronze bowl, and he drank, and his eyes glowed green like Leon's.

"It seems only fair," said one of Arthur's advisers, "for us to take turns drinking from the cup, to allay everyone's fears."

"I have no objection," said the queen. "What say you, Arthur?"

Silver eyes met gold—the hawk gazing fearlessly at the wolf—and Arthur nodded. "Very well."

So everyone shuffled out of their circle formation and into two lines, with Arthur and Mathildis and the others who had drunk at one end, and passed the Cup back and forth. Merlin tried to step back out of the line, but Arthur rolled his eerie, glowing eyes and jerked his head toward the line impatiently.

Merlin could mostly hide the way his hands were shaking by now, but he couldn't help the nervous sweat that had sprung up on the back of his neck. Arthur was going to find out, unless the queen decided that Merlin didn't need to drink. Merlin could only hope that the presence of so many witnesses and the other magic users would keep the knights from killing him outright in defense of their king.

The Cup passed back and forth down the line without incident. Nearly everyone on Arthur's side had glowing green eyes; a little over half of the people on Mathildis's side did, while the others glowed gold. A couple of them had glowing fingertips as well, like Astrith; one looked a little smug as his hands lit up past his wrist, disappearing under the sleeves of his tunic.

One or two people in each line had no reaction and were dismissed.

"Your father wanted nothing to do with these _sorcerers_ ," said one of Arthur's advisers, "and with good reason. I don't trust them, and neither should you."

"Your caution is duly noted," said Arthur. "Thank you."

With the circle formation undone, everyone kept leaning in out of curiosity, eager to see the colors that the enchantment revealed in their companions. There was a bit of surprise on Arthur's side when Gwaine's eyes lit up, a lighter green than the rest, with the faintest hint of gold altering the color.

"You're a sorcerer, Gwaine?" asked Arthur, incredulous.

"I'm a what?" Of course, thought Merlin. Gwaine couldn't see his own eyes, after all.

"There's gold in your eyes."

Gwaine scoffed. "If I have any magic at all, sire, it's as much a surprise to me as it is to you."

"Would explain your luck in the taverns," muttered someone.

Astrith stepped closer, studying Gwaine's face carefully. "There is a hint of magic here," she said, "but it's a very small amount. Observe how his eyes are still mostly green, my lord. It is indeed likely that your knight would not have been aware of his own gift, it is so small."

Gwaine smirked. "I guarantee, my lady, that is the only small thing about me."

"Sir Gwaine." The tone of Arthur's voice was quelling enough, but the knight only leaned out to get a better look at his king, his grin widening.

"Does this mean I'm banished again, sire?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No. Although if you don't mind your tongue in the presence of our hosts, I may be tempted to change my mind."

So Arthur wouldn't banish Gwaine. That was good, thought Merlin. He didn't even seem especially upset, beyond his usual annoyance at Gwaine's insouciance.

There were only a few people left, and the sweat on Merlin's neck was ice cold. How bad could it be? he thought hysterically. He'd drunk poison for Arthur before, after all. How bad could this be?

He was carefully not answering that question while he waited.

Finally it was Merlin's turn, and he knew he couldn't get out of it; Mathildis had made certain that even the servants on her side of the chamber had taken their mouthful of water, so there was no way that Merlin couldn't. His hands shook as he took the Cup of Truth, and of course Arthur noticed. His hawk-silver eyes missed nothing where Merlin was concerned.

"Merlin?"

Merlin had lost his words, and could only swallow. His tongue tasted metallic, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

"Look," said Arthur, "I know you don't like magic much, but it's only a drink of water."

"I know," he said. His throat hurt. "I'm sorry."

Silver eyes narrowed a little, and Arthur frowned. "Just get it over with."

Gwaine spoke up. "Hey, listen, mate, it's no big deal. If you get a set of wolf's eyes like mine, we can be banished together. It'll be an adventure."

Merlin nodded, shaking from head to toe now. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out," he said to Arthur, and drank.

Leon had been right; the water tasted so pure and clear that it seemed to cleanse him from the inside. It tasted like hope and forgiveness, and he gasped, throwing his head back as the enchantment worked through him. Distantly, he felt the Cup slip from his fingers, and his knees buckle, and hands under his armpits holding him upright as people exclaimed. Was he falling? He couldn't help it; what he felt was simply so beautiful that he was overcome.

He took another deep breath, pure and clear, and heard Arthur calling his name, somewhere far away. Merlin could never ignore his king, so he reached deep, remembering how his body worked, and managed to open his eyes. Hawk-silver eyes were staring back at him in concern, but they widened in shock and horror as Arthur realized just what he was seeing.

He wanted to say he was sorry, but the world was spinning and the enchantment had him in its grip, the beauty and promise of forgiveness calling to him, so Merlin closed his eyes again and let himself fall in.


	3. Chapter 3

"This wasn't how I wanted you to find out," said Merlin, and Arthur felt a creeping sense of dread work up his spine and into his gut. His servant was trembling like a leaf, and Arthur had never, ever seen him look so afraid before.

Merlin drank, and gasped at the sensation, which meant he was trustworthy, of course. That was not unexpected; Arthur trusted no one more than he trusted Merlin. But then Merlin threw his head back, the arch of his throat bared to everyone in the room, and the Cup of Truth slipped out of his hands; it nearly struck the floor before one of the queen's courtiers leaped forward with a cry to catch it. Arthur heard the water left in the bowl splash and splatter onto the floor, but he himself was leaping forward as Merlin's legs gave way and he crumpled as if he'd been struck. Gwaine was closer, and fast, and caught Merlin under the arms, but his servant's—his friend's—head lolled forward, loose on his neck.

"Merlin. Merlin!" Arthur had Merlin's chin in his hands, tipping his head up. He patted the other man's cheek; he could see Merlin's eyes moving beneath closed lids. "Merlin!"

Merlin took another sharp, deep breath, and his eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused… and brilliant gold. Arthur could feel his own eyes widen in shock.

Wolf's eyes, one of his knights had said earlier. The eyes of a sorcerer, Arthur now knew.

Merlin focused on him for only a moment, somehow managing to look sad even with his eerie glowing eyes. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp again.

"Gwaine?"

"Got him, sire."

"Here," said one of the queen's entourage, a man whose hands had a golden sheen nearly as bright as his eyes. "Lay him out on the table."

"Who are you?" demanded Arthur, as the man tried to shoulder past him toward Merlin.

"Edgar, my lord. The queen's personal physician. Please, my lord, I can help."

Arthur looked around him at everyone, the queen's court and the king's entourage, eyes glowing in gold or green, and saw only earnest expressions. Or at least, earnest as far as he was able to read them without being completely distracted by the strange eyes. "Fine."

They laid him out, and Edgar laid his head on Merlin's chest. "His breathing is fine," he said. "Heartbeat is strong."

"His hands," said Gwaine. Arthur saw that Merlin's hands were glowing now, too, the faint sheen disappearing up his sleeves the same as it did on Edgar. Arthur glanced at Astrith and the queen, and their glimmering fingertips. "What does that mean?"

"I think you can guess," said Mathildis, not unkindly.

Arthur didn't want his guess to be correct. Bad enough that Merlin had… no. He didn't want to think about this right now. "So what is wrong with him? What did your enchanted cup do to him?"

"Nothing," said the old adviser who had spoken earlier. "Or at least, it shouldn't have."

"He seems unharmed, but I have only just begun my examination," said Edgar. He pushed back Merlin's sleeve, and Arthur saw that the sheen on his skin extended clear up his arm. Mathildis and her court murmured, impressed; Arthur knew what it meant, whether he wanted to or not, and it made him feel nothing but heartsick, and betrayed.

How long had Merlin carried this secret?

"Everyone out," he said hoarsely. The others looked up, startled. "He's not your bloody _spectacle_ , to stand around and stare at like some kind of entertainment. Leave him be!"

Mathildis nodded. "We will give Edgar space to do his work without distraction," she said. "No one outside of this chamber is to know what has happened. Let us preserve the king of Camelot's trust in us."

"Sire?"

Arthur didn't look to see which knight had spoken. He took a deep breath in a chest that felt tight. "The queen is right. There were counselors who came with us who did not want this treaty to go through. They could intend harm to Merlin, or Gwaine, for that matter. Gwaine, you'll stay here; Leon, Elyan, Percival. The rest of you are dismissed to your chambers."

"What of our eyes?" asked one of his advisers. "And what of you, sire?"

"The enchantment will remain in place until our council session concludes," said Mathildis. "If your eye color fades to normal beforehand, then I will know that you are no longer to be trusted to have both our kingdoms' best interests at heart."

"And I will be here with Merlin, or else in my own chambers," said Arthur. Merlin and the knights had been given quarters adjacent to his own; perhaps Arthur would take a moment to look for that book Merlin had purchased. See whether it was really a simple herbology text as Merlin had claimed.

Could he ever trust Merlin again, after this?

Everyone filed out, except for the queen. "Arthur."

"My lady." He had to force himself to look at her rather than at Merlin. His—his what? Arthur no longer knew.

"Whatever has happened here, it was not by my design or intent," said Mathildis. "Your servant will receive every consideration, as if he were a member of my own household, until he recovers."

There was only one way Arthur could respond to that, and that was to give his most diplomatic nod and his most polite thanks, and to ignore the knowing look that the queen gave him in return.

* * *

 

Apart from Edgar, the queen had left a servant at the physician's disposal, and Edgar sent her to his chambers with an entire list of strange items that he claimed he would require in order to examine Merlin completely.

"You can't draw any conclusions from your observations so far?" pressed Arthur.

"Well, my lord, I know that the enchantment is benign, and that your servant is in good health and appears otherwise unharmed. But he is also… powerful." Edgar cleared his throat delicately. "Quite powerful, in fact. My educated guess is that he is simply sensitive to the feel of the enchantment, and has become overwhelmed by sensation."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, your knight described the water as cleansing, did he not? You could all feel it. Perhaps your servant felt something similar, only much stronger because of the depth of his magic." He reached down and adjusted the cloak that Gwaine had folded and placed beneath Merlin's head. "I'll be able to tell for certain once my apparatus is here."

Arthur nodded, and pulled his knights aside. "Did any of you know about this?" he asked, his voice low.

To his relief, they all shook their heads, though Gwaine did offer, "Explains a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"We go into battle in armor and with swords, and this scrawny twig at our side," said Gwaine affectionately. "And he never gets a scratch on him. And don't think I haven't noticed the ridiculous luck we have whenever he's with us."

"You think there's more than coincidence to it?" asked Elyan.

Percival snorted. "Never seen so many tree branches fall on someone's head in my life," he said, and the others huffed or chuckled outright.

"I suppose in retrospect it is a bit obvious," said Leon. "I've fought bandits on patrols for years, even before you were old enough to go with us, sire. Long before Merlin joined us. They do seem to have become much… clumsier, since he began accompanying you."

"You don't think he has some hidden agenda," said Arthur.

"Merlin? No. Of course not."

"Unless it's to protect you," said Elyan.

"He is a bit of a fanatic about that," agreed Gwaine. "But he'd no more betray you than your castle could fly, Princess."

Arthur could only wish he had Gwaine's certainty.

While they had been talking, Edgar's servant had returned, and the physician had begun doing all sorts of arcane things that Arthur had never seen from Gaius. But then, Gaius didn't use magic. Edgar had a tiny brazier burning near Merlin's head, the aromatic smoke filling the chamber, and was passing a bundle of smoldering sage up and down Merlin's body while the servant placed what looked like lumps of crystal on Merlin's belly, forehead, hands, and feet. The crystals caught the glow from Merlin's skin and amplified it so that he seemed to be adorned with points of light.

"Oh, you poor child," murmured Edgar, even though he looked to be only a few years older than Arthur himself.

"What is it?"

"Such suffering he's endured. Such loss. I know not the details, but his aura is filled with the miasma of sadness and loneliness. Grief. Regret." Edgar blinked and shook himself. "And he is indeed quite sensitive to magical energies. I can feel him responding even to these simple diagnostic tools, which are not terribly strong at all. Observe."

He passed the bundle of sage near Merlin's shoulder, not touching, and moved slowly down his arm toward his hand. The crystal in Merlin's palm dimmed and flickered before brightening again when Edgar took his hand away.

"Is that unusual?" asked Arthur.

"I know of no one else who has ever been sensitive enough to notice such things, much less respond to them. Your companion has a rare gift."

A rare gift that he'd been hiding from Arthur. Or possibly flaunting under his nose, the entire time that they'd known one another. "What must be done to cure him?"

"I hesitate to do anything quite yet, my lord," said Edgar. "He does not appear to be in any danger. It's possible that he will come out of this on his own, with rest and time."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then… it is possible that he fell into the enchantment willingly, due to his sorrow, and would need to be persuaded to come back out."

Arthur just barely resisted the urge to clench his teeth. "And how does one do that?"

"Someone he cares for and trusts would need to merge their thoughts with his, in a manner of speaking, and find him where he languishes. And then, well, persuade him to leave of his own will."

"In other words, more sorcery."

Edgar drew himself up, his lips pressed thin and his nostrils flaring. "Yes, my lord, I am afraid so. I realize you have little cause to trust magic, based on your experiences in Camelot, but I assure you that it is not the evil you seem to think it is."

"If I believed it to be completely evil, I would not have come to Elmet," said Arthur. "But I have seen far more than my fair share of the ways in which magic can be used to harm." He looked at Merlin and thought of the children playing with magic out in the marketplace. "And not enough of the ways in which it can be used to benefit."

Edgar's shoulders dropped a little, and his expression softened. "Then perhaps that is something that our people can provide, during your stay with us."

* * *

 

They moved Merlin back to his quarters, with the other knights surrounding him protectively and watching over him in shifts to make sure he was not left alone. He did not seem to be deeply unconscious; once or twice, he shifted in his bed, or muttered something no one could quite make out. Arthur thought he caught Merlin's eyes opening at one point, the wolf's golden glow transforming his face into something fey and wild; when Arthur called his name, however, he didn't respond, and after a second his eyes slid closed once more.

Arthur spent the day alternating between his chambers and the knights', where Merlin slept. Two of his advisers had failed the test of the Cup, and Arthur had not wanted them informed of what had happened, but of course they found out; so naturally, they chose to waste far too much of Arthur's time coming up with arguments about how Merlin's sudden illness was proof that the people of Elmet could not possibly have Camelot's best interests at heart.

"Enough," said Arthur finally, at the end of his patience. "My servant has been seen to by their physician, and he is expected to make a full recovery. None of the rest of us who drank was affected, but Merlin is unusually sensitive to such things. You will recall a few years ago, when the dorocha attacked; Merlin fell ill mere hours before they first appeared."

"I suppose that means he is a sorcerer himself," snapped one of them.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Arthur. If Merlin did have magic, God knew he'd had his reasons for keeping it a secret for so long, and Arthur wasn't about to share that secret with these two. They had been supportive of Agravaine and had served under his father, and tended to look at Arthur as though he were yet a biddable child who needed to be instructed gently until he stopped being stubborn and did as wiser heads told him to do. "If you have nothing more to do than spout these groundless theories of yours, after having failed to prove yourselves trustworthy to Queen Mathildis's satisfaction, then perhaps it would be best if you were to return to Camelot. It is clear that you will be of no use to me here."

"Sire!"

"If you would just listen to reason—"

"I have listened to your reasons, and I am rejecting them. As is my prerogative as your king, in case you had forgotten."

"But—but sire, the, the roads…"

"Hmm," said Arthur. "Very well, you are right. However, since you clearly do not feel safe here in Elmet, I suggest you remain in your chambers, and I will select a contingent of knights to keep watch over you. It would be best if you did not leave your rooms unless I summon you personally." He smiled grimly. "For your own protection, of course." Both men's faces were a picture of shock and outrage, but Arthur was not exactly feeling sympathetic. He'd brought them along at least partially so he could keep an eye on them, anyway.

Perhaps once they had returned to Camelot, they and Arthur would discuss his advisers' many years of long service to the crown, and whether or not it might be time for them to retire to their estates, to spend the remainder of their lives enjoying a well-earned rest from the burden of life at court. Without visitors.

"Leon."

"Sire."

"See to the selection of the best knights for the job; we'll want them to be kept quite safe during our stay here."

"At once, sire."

"Gentlemen, you are dismissed."

Arthur waited until the spluttering had stopped, the men had left, and the door was firmly shut before taking a long, slow breath. He'd kept at his work as long as he could, distracted by thoughts of Merlin. It wasn't proper for him to spend all of his time at Merlin's bedside, and he did have work to do, but it was all he could do to accomplish any of it without leaping from his chair and pacing the room instead.

He glanced out the window and saw that the sun was near to setting; the ceremony had been a little after midday, and since looking in on Merlin the first time, he'd heard no word on his friend's—his servant's—condition.

Right. He'd waited long enough.

Arthur strode into the room next door to his without knocking. Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival all glanced up from their seats at Merlin's side; their eyes gleamed in the waning light from outside. "No change?"

"No, sire," said Elyan. "He's stirred, but never really woken."

"We thought he might have said your name once, but…" Gwaine shook his head and shrugged. "Impossible to be certain."

Merlin seemed to be resting peacefully, his breathing deep and even. As the light in the room began to dim with the setting sun, the glow of his skin became more pronounced. _Quite powerful_ , Edgar had said.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, then strode to the doorway and frowned at the servant waiting on duty there. "Send for the physician."


	4. Chapter 4

"Sire, are you sure you want to go through with this?" asked Elyan. The lamps had not yet been lit, and his eyes glinted green in the shadows.

"You all heard Edgar. It's not dangerous, according to him." The queen's physician was preparing Merlin for the spell that would send someone else into his thoughts, to pull him out and wake him up. An apprentice was sliding a second cot into position beside him, for whoever volunteered to undertake the journey.

"But you are the king, sire," said Leon. "If you are under this enchantment then we are leaderless, and I do not trust those advisers you dismissed not to cause trouble."

"And if anything should go wrong…" Gwaine trailed off. "Look, let me do it. Merlin and I are friends, and since I supposedly have magic, maybe it will help me find him."

"You raise valid points," said Arthur, then held a hand up when his knights appeared to relax. "But I am doing this anyway. I have known Merlin longer, and I have a feeling it's me he's trying to avoid." He glance at his friend, lying there silently. "You heard what he said right before he drank."

_This isn't how I wanted you to find out._

"The physician said Merlin was in there because he was grieving," said Gwaine. "You're not the cause of that."

Arthur had to wonder whether that was really the case. "Who else would he have feared finding out about his magic?" he demanded, feeling no satisfaction when Gwaine looked away, clenching his jaw. "Who else would give him cause for regret?"

"Let's say you are the cause, sire," said Elyan. "Does that make you the best man to bring him out of it, or the worst choice for the job?"

"Only one way to find out," said Arthur grimly.

"No! No, there _isn't_ only one way," said Gwaine. "Let me go. If that doesn't work, then you can try."

Arthur took a deep breath, wanting to shout, but in the end all he said was, "No. I'm doing this, and that's final. Call it a… feeling."

"My lords," said Edgar. "The spell itself is simple, but it is likely that whoever undertakes the journey will be gone for several hours, by our perception. While you are gone, the negotiations—the entire purpose of your journey to see my queen—will be delayed. I do not wish to make my lady wait while the ritual is performed twice."

"Here's a thought," said Gwaine. "What if we both go?"

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again. Gwaine, of course, began to grin, knowing he'd won.

Something else occurred to Arthur, however, and he turned to Edgar. "What do you mean, by our perception?"

"Well, you'll be inside a… something similar to a shared dream, inside your servant's mind," said the physician. "Dreams can seem to last only a moment, or feel as though they've gone on for days. Or both. What you believe is happening, the amount of time you take, may not match with what we observe in the waking world."

"And is it _possible_ for two of us to go at once?"

Edgar hesitated. "It… should be," he said, rubbing at his wispy beard. "There is the risk that his mind will only allow one of you to enter, or that hosting more than one person might fatigue him."

"I thought you said this spell of yours was safe," said Arthur.

"It is, my lord! For one person to enter the mind of another is not difficult, especially when they know and trust one another. You'll be building a shared dream together, a world your minds create together, with equal input. But two people entering his mind might feel… a little overcrowded, say. Threatened, or outnumbered by the two of you. He might be overwhelmed and fall deeper into unconsciousness in order to escape you."

"Is there a way to tell if that's happening?" asked Gwaine. "Not much point to trying to help him if we only end up hurting him instead. It'd be easier if we had a way to back out, if we end up being too much for him."

"Or just one of us could go," snarked Arthur.

"Save it, Princess; we're both going, and you can't stop me. If you try, I'll just wait till you're asleep and then follow you in."

"If his mind is unable to accommodate you both, then you should simply wake up and the spell will fail, with no ill effects to anyone."

Arthur shook his hands out impatiently and crossed over to the empty cot. "We're wasting time. Let's get started."

Edgar sent his apprentice to fetch another dose of sedative potion, while Percival pulled a second cot to Merlin's bedside. Within a few minutes, the physician had prepared the space to his satisfaction and was directing Arthur and Gwaine to lie down, one on either side of Merlin.

"You will drink this tea, which will relax you and make it easier for you to slip into your servant's mind. It will encourage sleep, but will not force you to remain unconscious, so if anything goes wrong, you will simply wake, and be perhaps a little drowsy."

Arthur glanced sideways at Gwaine, who looked just as skeptical until he caught his king watching him. "Bottoms up," said the other knight, and tipped the cup back and downed its contents in one swallow. Arthur was quick to follow, grimacing at the taste.

"Very good, my lords," said Edgar, as the apprentice began to chant quietly. "Now lie down and arrange yourselves comfortably…"

"Leon, you're my second. Give Percival and Elyan first shift guarding us, then dispose the rest of the knights as you see fit."

"…and now each of you take one of Merlin's hands."

Arthur raised one eyebrow, albeit sluggishly; he could already feel the sedative, or possibly the spell, taking hold.

"The spell requires physical contact in order for it to work, my lord."

With an effort, Arthur lifted his arm and reached across to Merlin's cot. His hand was heavy as it landed on Merlin's, and it took a bit of fumbling to get his fingers curled around his friend's. His eyelids drooped, and the last thing he saw as the physician added his voice to the chant was the gold glow of Merlin's magic, shining between Arthur's fingers.

* * *

 

There was gold shining in Arthur's eyes when he opened them. He threw a hand up to shield them from the brightness, and took a moment to wonder if this was what it was like to be inside Merlin's magic, or if something had gone wrong with Edgar's spell.

Instead, as his eyes adjusted, Arthur found himself lying in a clearing in the woods, with a sunbeam shining directly on his face.

Oh.

Feeling foolish, Arthur got up, moved to the shade, and looked around, trying to get his bearings. There weren't any immediately recognizable landmarks, but this was supposed to be the inside of a dream, so perhaps that was to be expected. A shared dream, Edgar had said. Arthur wondered if he could influence the dream, perhaps alter the landscape or something, but that felt too much like doing magic of his own. It was strange enough to consider that Merlin, of all people, was a sorcerer. A powerful one, according to Mathildis's physician.

A powerful one who, Arthur suspected, had fled into his own mind rather than face Arthur and the revelation of his secret. _This wasn't how I wanted you to find out_ , he'd said.

 Still, Arthur should try to be fair. Edgar had suggested that maybe Merlin was simply overwhelmed by the feel of the enchantment from the Cup of Truth; but if that were the case, shouldn't he have woken up by now?

There was no sign of Merlin here; Arthur could hear faint birdsong and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, but could see no sign of actual birds. The light that had shone in Arthur's face now seemed to come from every direction at once, diffuse and golden, but Arthur could not pinpoint where the sun was in the sky, or even, unnervingly, if there was a sky. He could see only the green growth of the forest, and the golden light.

There were no trails, and no sign of Merlin himself; no indication of which way Arthur would have to go to find him.

"Damn it, Merlin," Arthur said under his breath. "Where the hell are you?"

Something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and Arthur whirled in place to see a clear path through the undergrowth, where there had only been greenery just a moment ago.

"This had better not be a trick." But it wasn't as if Arthur could determine any better direction to go, so with a deep breath and a squaring of his shoulders, he set off on the trail.

It would have been nice if he'd had his sword, he thought, and then nearly tripped as a sudden weight was added to his side. He looked down to see Excalibur in its sheath, as if it had always been there. Arthur set his hand to the hilt, then shuddered and let go; this was entirely too much like having magic himself, and he did not like it.

Was the entire dream this… malleable? Could he wish for Camelot and have it appear in the distance?

Would a bad mood or a stray thought cause the entire place to become dangerous to him?

Great. Now he'd probably spend all his time conjuring evil and peril, simply by trying to avoid thinking about it.

Arthur looked about himself warily as he walked, but nothing changed; the sky did not grow dark and menacing, no beasts leaped out from between the trees, and the realm didn't suddenly go up in a conflagration of smoke and flame…

No, the forest stayed exactly the same; peaceful, and empty, and with only one path forward.

There was no sign of Gwaine, either, but Arthur had suspected that Edgar's spell would only allow one of them to share a dream with Merlin, no matter what the physician had said.

* * *

 

Arthur walked for what seemed like hours, but it was hard to tell for certain. The quality of light shining through the trees never changed, nor did the landscape: gently undulating and covered in greenery, but devoid of any signs of life or habitation. If this had been the waking world, he was sure he would have had to stop to rest by now.

"Merlin, if this is your mind, then you're even more empty-headed than I'd already thought," Arthur muttered.

"It's empty because he doesn't want you here," said someone, and Arthur spun, drawing his sword and looking wildly around.

"Show yourself."

"Why?" asked the unknown speaker; it sounded like a girl. "So you can kill me?"

"I will defend myself if I must," said Arthur, "but if you're only here to talk, then I mean you no harm."

"And will you say the same to Merlin, if you find him?"

Arthur turned slowly in place, looking for the girl, but there was no sign of her.

"I'm not here to harm Merlin," he said. "Do you know where he is?"

"He's everywhere," came the reply. "This is his dream. You're only a visitor."

"And what does that make you?" Arthur demanded, feeling his temper rise.

"A memory." There was a rustle in the underbrush, and then an enormous creature stepped onto the path, staring at Arthur. It was black, and feline in appearance except for its bat-like wings.

A bastet.

 _Ah,_ thought Arthur, drawing his sword back and high, aiming it at the creature's eyes, _here is the evil and peril, after all._

To his surprise, the bastet laughed, in the girl's voice. "What are you going to do, kill me again? You've already done so once."

"I'm aware." In reality, Arthur had hoped; he knew he'd wounded it, but the creature had escaped before he'd been able to see to its demise properly. "Show me your true form, witch."

"Witch?" The bastet scoffed at him, flapping its—her—wings. "You claim Merlin is your friend, and yet you speak to me this way."

"He's not evil." At least, Arthur hoped he wasn't.

"And neither was I!" In the blink of an eye, the bastet transformed, and there was the druid girl standing before him, wearing a dress that looked familiar, with tears in her eyes. "I was cursed! Not that you cared."

Arthur did not move even an inch, waiting for the attack. "You were killing people."

"Not of my own will. _Never_ of my own will."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"I already told you. I'm a memory. Merlin knew me. I can only tell you what he knew."

"Which is that you were cursed?"

"I killed someone once, in self-defense. He tried to…" She looked away, clutching her elbows and shivering. "It doesn't matter what he tried to do. I protected myself, and his mother cursed me to turn into this, every night." She shifted into the bastet, then back again. "To hunt and kill whether I wanted it or not. Your father didn't care. That bounty hunter didn't care. One of them saw magic, and the other saw money."

"And what did Merlin see?" Because if Arthur still knew his servant at all, Merlin would have tried to help her in the face of all common sense.

The girl smiled. "He saw _me_. He saw a person, saw who I used to be. Who I could have been without the curse." A tear slipped down her cheek. "He freed me from that wretched cage, and offered to leave Camelot with me."

Arthur blinked, lowering his sword cautiously. Merlin? Leave Camelot? "So what happened?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"I knew it would be too dangerous. It didn't matter that we loved each other…"

 _Loved each other?_ Arthur tried not to gape, but he felt his eyebrows climb his forehead.

"… at the stroke of midnight, I knew I would change anyway. I didn't want to hurt him." She sniffed, and wiped at her cheeks with dirty hands. "So I tried to leave Camelot without him, but I was too late. Midnight came, and…" She shrugged, and met his eyes. "You hurt me. Merlin distracted you so that I could escape. He found me, and somehow I knew him, even in that form, and I didn't attack. I turned back into my true form then, but I was dying."

What was Arthur supposed to say to that? "I'm sorry," he tried, but she just shook her head.

"Merlin and I, we'd talked about finding somewhere peaceful to live. Somewhere we could be together, with a lake, and mountains." She smiled, even through her tears. "He took me to the Lake of Avalon, and it was beautiful, and peaceful, and I thanked him as I died. And then he put me in a boat, and set me on the water, and used his magic to set me alight. He stood and watched, weeping, until the boat burned to the waterline."

"You can't know that."

"I'm Merlin's memory, of course I can know that. I know everything that he knows of me."

"And you know that he loved you."

The girl nodded. "Part of him still does."

And Arthur had killed her. "I didn't know any of this."

The girl tilted her head, and gave a little shrug. "There is a lot about Merlin that you don't know. There is a lot he's never told you. What will you do about it?"

Arthur sighed. "I don't know."

"You may want to decide," she said. "Or this path will go on forever and you'll never find him."

"Merlin is my friend," said Arthur. "Or I thought he was," he added under his breath, and the girl scowled as if she'd heard him. "I'm not leaving until I find him. Even if… even if it seems as though I never really knew him at all."

The girl studied him for a long moment before her expression softened. "You know him better than you think," she said. "Will you hurt him, when you find him? Or after you leave the dream—will you try to kill him? Have him executed like your father would have?"

The thought made Arthur feel sick. "No. God, no." He might still be forced to banish Merlin, possibly, but if he did, he would take no satisfaction from it.

The girl studied him some more, until Arthur felt the urge to fidget under her steady gaze. "I believe you," she said finally. "You care about him."

Arthur sighed. There seemed no point in denying it, especially to a figment of Merlin's own mind. "I do."

She nodded, seeming satisfied. "I won't be the only guardian you face," she said. "But be truthful and fair, as Merlin knows you to be, and you will win through."

"Merlin has guardians?" Arthur knew this was all a dream, a created world, he did, but… the very thought of Merlin, of all the people he knew, being so guarded and secretive, so unwilling to let Arthur in, in a very real sense, seemed completely foreign to what he knew of Merlin's character.

"Merlin has kept the secret of his magic for his entire life," said the girl. "There are only two people living with whom he's comfortable sharing that knowledge. He's had to protect himself since he was a child, and he's had to protect you for several years now. Yes. Here in this dream, Merlin has guardians."

Arthur took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Then I will face them," he said, "however many there are."

"And if they test you?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," said Arthur, and the girl smiled in a way entirely too reminiscent of Merlin's smile when he was especially proud of something Arthur had done or said.


	5. Chapter 5

Gwaine sat up and blew his hair out of his eyes, looking around curiously. So, this was the inside of Merlin's head… unless the knights had played a prank while he slept and dumped him in a forest clearing.

But no, this was not quite like any forest Gwaine had ever seen. It was too perfect, somehow; the air too clear and clean, the birdsong too sweet (and no birds to be seen). If there had been a brook nearby, Gwaine was almost certain it would have been babbling like something out of a minstrel's tale.

Gwaine stood and turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings. No wildlife. No trail leading in or out of this clearing. Nothing but the lightest of breezes to stir the leaves, and a directionless, golden light that filtered through the green and made everything glow just the faintest bit.

"Well, Merlin, if this is how you see the forest, it's no wonder you're always off collecting herbs for Gaius," he said aloud. He hadn't really expected an answer, but was still a bit disappointed when none came.

"And how am I supposed to find you," he muttered under his breath. Something shivered along his spine, like someone walking over his grave, and Gwaine spun in place to find a path where none had been before. He quirked one eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "All right, then."

He took off walking, and before long the ground dipped into a valley and the light grew dimmer. Gwaine came to a familiar-looking bridge, with an equally familiar-looking dwarf standing in front of it.

"Ah," said the little man, "Strength comes looking for Magic once more."

"You said something like that the last time we met." Gwaine cocked his head. "Didn't think you meant it literally at the time."

"You saw what you chose to see," said the dwarf. "That can be dangerous, you know."

"Yeah, I reckon even more so here than most places."

"Oh no. Not for you." Gwaine raised an eyebrow, and the man went on, "Magic knows you're here, and he's waiting for you. You and Courage."

"That would be Arthur, right?"

The dwarf hummed thoughtfully. "'Course, he's a bit less worried about how you'll react once you meet him."

"Merlin's my friend," said Gwaine with a frown. "So he has magic. Not the first person I've known to have it."

"And that is why you will see him soon. You have only to pass over my bridge. Courage has a bit longer journey ahead of him."

Gwaine tipped his head. "He's Merlin's friend too."

"A friend to Merlin, yes. A friend to Magic? That remains to be seen."

* * *

 

Arthur had trudged on in silence for some time now, thinking about the girl Merlin had known. Had they really been in love? Had Merlin really considered leaving Arthur behind, leaving Camelot?

Technically, Merlin wasn't free to do that; realistically, however, Arthur wasn't sure he would have stopped Merlin from leaving his service if he'd truly wanted to go. Merlin could have asked, explained that he wanted to marry, and that would have been that.

But _could_ Merlin have asked? "Hello, sire, yes, there's this girl," that would have been all well and good, barring a week's worth of teasing. "And she's cursed and we're off to seek a cure and live somewhere that she can't harm anyone in the meantime." That, not so much. "Also, I have magic."

Arthur grimaced, then sighed. No. Merlin really couldn't have said anything, not while Uther lived. Even if Arthur had been willing to cover for him, sooner or later a secret like that would have come out.

 _Would_ Arthur have been willing to cover for him? He'd claimed that Merlin wasn't evil when he spoke to the cursed girl, and thinking about it was a bit surprised to realize he believed it completely. Merlin was many things, a hell of a liar chief among them apparently, but he wasn't malicious. Arthur's shoulders dropped as a tension he hadn't known he was carrying fell away.

"Oh, look who's finally made it." The voice dripped with sarcasm, and Arthur thought he recognized it.

"Will."

Merlin's friend stepped out from the trees, blocking Arthur's path. "About time you showed up."

"I can't control how long the path is," said Arthur.

Will snorted. "Probably the wisest thing you've ever said."

"Look, I get that you don't like the nobility—"

"Yeah, and you don't like sorcerers."

Arthur stopped, narrowing his eyes in realization. "You were never a sorcerer. It was Merlin all along."

"Yeah," said Will. "He wanted to tell you, but we both knew you'd have just run him through, back then."

"I wouldn't have done that!"

"Bit hard to prove it now, isn't it?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Arthur countered, trying to resist the urge to punch the other man. "All I want is to speak to Merlin. Get him to wake up, so we can deal with this."

"There is no dealing with it, _Arthur_ ," sneered Will. "Merlin has magic. And it's not going to go away just because you wish it so. He's always had magic, he was bloody _born_ with magic."

"That's impossible."

"Oh, like you know so much about it. You're standing in the middle of 'impossible', you unbelievable prat! Look around!" Will flung his arms out, taking in their surroundings. "You're inside my friend's head, talking to a dead man that only lives in Merlin's memory."

Arthur gritted his teeth, and said levelly, "Merlin is my friend, too."

"Is he? Because he _claimed_ that you were, all the way back in Ealdor, and _I_ told him that a real friend would have been someone he could talk to about his magic without having to fear for his life."

"Everything I'd ever seen of magic up to that point was evil!" shouted Arthur. "Just in the few months that I'd known Merlin, someone unleashed a magical plague, a witch tried to murder me, and a knight enchanted his shield with venomous snakes so he could cheat on the tourney field. How the hell was I supposed to react?"

"Maybe by listening!"

"To what? Merlin's lies? His excuses?"

Will scoffed and folded his arms. "So you think he's a liar, then. Some friend you turned out to be."

" _Merlin_ has hidden this from me the entire time I've known him," said Arthur. "Justified or not, he's lied about a fundamental part of himself. Hidden it from me. Do I even _know_ him, or is our friendship a lie too?"

"I guess that's for you to decide."

Arthur stomped forward, dragging his hands through his hair in order to keep from grabbing Will by his shirt and yanking. "I'm not the one who decides what was a lie and what was the truth!"

"No," said Will. "But you are the one who decides whether or not you can set your anger aside long enough to listen to what he has to say. And you're the one who decides whether or not the two of you remain friends afterward." He looked Arthur up and down, visibly unimpressed. "Do you even want that?"

Arthur deflated, turning away with a sigh. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, but he remembered the bastet-girl's words. Merlin's guardians would test him, she'd said; well, Will was definitely a trial to talk to. Honesty, the girl had said. Arthur could do that.

"I only know that I don't want to lose him," he said finally. "How I feel about his magic, whether I can forgive his lies… I don't know, because I don't know how deep they run. How deeply he's betrayed me, or even… or even _if_ he's betrayed me. So many people have done, after claiming to be my friends. Claiming to care. Is Merlin one of them?"

Arthur hadn't heard Will move, and startled when a hand landed on his shoulder. "He isn't," he said. "Merlin has always been your friend. And I can tell you he's wanted to reveal his magic to you for a long time. Since Ealdor, at least."

Arthur thought back, remembering the tension between them when Arthur had spotted the unnatural gale, blowing back the bandits and stopping the fighting. Will had confessed to it, and Merlin had tried to stop him. Then at Will's funeral…

"He tried to tell me, even then," said Arthur. "Didn't he?"

"He did. But he heard you say that magic was not to be trusted, ever, so he held back at the last second."

"I've said that to him a lot."

Will nodded. "Do you still believe it?"

Arthur took a deep breath. "I don't know."

"Well, if you want to see him again, ever, you'd better make up your bloody mind."

Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but between one blink and the next, Will was gone.

* * *

 

"Hi," said Gwaine.

Merlin was seated on a log, staring at his clasped hands, in a clearing barely big enough for three people to stand in. They were surrounded on all sides by thick brush, and the light was dimmer here than wherever Gwaine had woken up.

"Hi," said Merlin. His hands weren't glowing in this dream place, but his eyes still were, brilliant wolf-gold. "Are you real?"

"A philosophical question, that," said Gwaine, "and one I'd rather discuss over a pint at the Rising Sun than here in your head."

"Is that where we are?" Gwaine just stared at him, and Merlin went back to looking at his hands. "I drank the water and it felt… like absolution. So I fell in. I thought maybe we were somewhere else."

"Looks like you fell into your own mind, from what the queen's physician said. 'm here to get you to come back out, if you're willing."

"Arthur sent you, then." His voice dropped away. "Should have known he wouldn't want to come himself."

"But he did," said Gwaine. "We both did. I figured two of us working on you might convince you better." He frowned, remembering what the dwarf had said. "I thought you knew he was out there."

"He's angry. He'll hate me for this," said Merlin.

"Angry? Maybe," allowed Gwaine. "Hate you, though? I'm not sure he has it in him to hate you, Merlin. Not sure anyone does." He stepped over and sat on the log next to his friend, close enough to bump shoulders. "Did you know we were here?"

"I'm… not sure," said Merlin. He frowned thoughtfully. "I think I can sort of feel you. And Arthur. But it's like a dream. You know, that sense you get where you know what's happening, even if part of the story is that you don't know?"

"Maybe, yeah. Queen's physician said you were dreaming. That's how we're able to be here."

"But are you really?" Merlin wasn't looking at him anymore, gone back to staring at his hands.

"Well, if you want to be technical about it, I'm sleeping off a potion while holding your hand, in Mathildis's castle still. And so's Arthur, for that matter. But the potion was supposed to help us come find you in your dream, and convince you to wake up."

"I'm not sure I want to," said Merlin. "Everyone knows now, don't they?"

"About your magic? I'd reckon they do."

"I can't face that. I can't face _them_." He swallowed heavily; Gwaine watched his Adam's apple bob with the motion. "If Arthur doesn't order me killed, maybe one of the other knights or those councilors will take care of the problem for him."

Now Gwaine nudged Merlin's shoulder, hard. "That's enough of that kind of talk, my friend," he said. "We knights are your friends; I should bloody well hope you knew that by now. There's nothing the Princess could do to you that any of us would allow, if it isn't fair or just or reasonable."

Merlin sighed, his entire frame moving with the force of his breath. "I guess I believe you'd try," he said finally. "But Arthur is king. He won't let you defy him for long."

"Arthur's your friend, too, you know," said Gwaine. "I think you're selling him short if you think he'll just chop off your head without taking a minute to talk first." Then he winced, because that was a horrible way to put it. "What I meant was, I don't think he's going to have you killed. He'll need to time to think things over, but he'll come around. Where you're concerned? He always does."

"About other things, maybe," said Merlin. He looked up again, wolf-gold eyes glowing in the dim of the clearing. "Not about this."

* * *

 

Lessons, thought Arthur, as he walked. Each guardian was supposed to test him, according to the bastet-girl; the thought reminded him of his father, and how everything he did had a lesson buried in it somewhere.

The girl had said to be honest. Will had said to listen to Merlin.

How could he listen to someone who had been keeping this secret for years and years? How could he be honest with someone who had proven to be such a liar? Was everything about their friendship false? Did Merlin have an agenda in getting close to Arthur?

"Pendragons. Always looking for hidden motives and betrayal, when they're the ones who do the betraying."

It hadn't been so long that Arthur had forgotten the man's voice. "Balinor."

The dead dragonlord stepped out onto the path, giving Arthur a menacing glare. Knowing the man was a sorcerer, or had been in life, was almost enough to give Arthur pause. Still, he frowned, and cocked his head. "Why are _you_ here?" he asked. "Merlin loved the girl, and Will was his best friend growing up. Who are you to him?" Come to that, it had been a mystery to Arthur even when Balinor had been alive, how quickly Merlin had seemed to attach himself to the man and how deeply affected he'd been by his death.

"I could ask you the same thing, boy," said Balinor. "Who are _you_ to him? Who are you to my son?"

"Your s—" Arthur staggered back, his eyes wide. "He told me he never knew his father!"

"And he didn't," said Balinor. "Gaius only told him who I was the day you and he left to find me. I never even knew I'd had a son until we met for the first time. _Your_ father is responsible for that."

"I'm not my father."

"Aren't you?" Balinor clenched his fists, dark eyes never leaving Arthur's face. "Have you any idea how many lives he's ruined, in your name?"

"I never asked for that!" shouted Arthur. Around them, the birdsong fell silent for the first time. "You think I wanted my life to be marked by the blood of thousands? You think I _asked_ for slaughter when I was still only an infant? My father's choices were his own, and don't you _dare_ place them on me!"

"Yes, you've already called him a hypocrite," mused the dragonlord. "The question is whether or not you are one as well."

Arthur tamped down his temper with an effort, glaring at Balinor but forcing himself to think. "The only sorcerers _I've_ executed," he said, "were those who misused their powers for thievery and murder, or treason when they tried to kill _me_. And if you're a memory of Merlin's, then you should already know that."

"Merlin's killed for you," said Balinor, and all the breath left Arthur in a rush. "Same as any of your knights. He's stopped threats to your kingdom that you don't even know about, but he used magic to do it. Will you execute him?"

"You already know I won't."

"And how would I know that?"

"You're part of Merlin's memory. So is everyone else I've spoken to here. I've already told the girl, no, I won't see Merlin beheaded or burned." The thought still made him sick to his stomach.

"How about banished, then?" asked Balinor. "Exiled? Forced to live a life on the run, friendless and homeless, until you have _need_ of him and his magic once more? Will Merlin die as I died, coerced into your service but without even the gift of your respect?"

"No," said Arthur. "I don't use people like that. I told you, I'm not Uther."

"You were perfectly willing to use me."

"You were the only one able to stop that dragon, or so we thought."

"Aye, and now Merlin is."

Arthur stopped short, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that the powers of a dragonlord are passed from father to son," said Balinor. "I was the last dragonlord, thanks to your father's betrayal of our kind. When I died, my abilities passed to Merlin." His expression changed, a sardonic, contemptuous smile playing across his lips. "You didn't seriously think _you'd_ killed that dragon, did you?"

"Merlin said—" Merlin had told him he'd dealt it a fatal blow. That Camelot was safe. "Merlin lied." Of course he had; one more lie among many, it seemed. Arthur's heart sank.

"Only partly. Merlin used his command over the Great Dragon to send him away. He is forbidden to come anywhere near Camelot or to harm any of its people. Camelot _is_ safe."

"Unless Merlin changes his mind," said Arthur bitterly.

"Do you think so little of him?"

"How am I supposed to know what to think?!" In frustration, Arthur drew his sword and hacked at the underbrush alongside the path; twigs and leaves fluttered to the ground. "I thought I knew him. I _trusted_ him. Everything out of his mouth since the day we met has been a lie."

"No."

Arthur rounded on Balinor, sword pointed at his chest. "You're nothing but a memory, in Merlin's own mind," he sneered. "Of course _you_ would say that."

"You wanted truth, you're getting it," said Balinor. "I'm protecting Merlin, yes. I'm telling you what he would be too afraid to say. And I'm not letting you anywhere near him in the state you're in. You'd only lash out and hurt him, whether he deserves it or not."

"My father told me that a king cannot afford the luxury of trust," said Arthur. The words scraped at his throat, making him hoarse. "I thought that belief was a product of his own hatred and paranoia, so I've done my best not to follow it. But look what trust has brought me. Morgana. Agravaine. Uther himself. Now Merlin."

"Now we come to it," said the dragonlord. Somehow it sounded less mocking than he had up to that point. "You fear he has betrayed you like they did, or that he will. That he has it _in_ him to turn on you. That he has some hidden agenda, to use you for his own ends." Balinor stepped closer now, and his eyes seemed almost kind. "Think, boy. If Merlin wanted you dead, you would be. He's saved you countless times. If he were working for Morgana, she'd be queen by now, not killed at Camlann."

"How can I continue to trust someone who has lied to me for so long?" asked Arthur. It felt as if his heart were breaking, to say it out loud.

"You want to, don't you?"

Arthur closed his eyes. How he wished he could deny it.

"You've already said you have no plans to execute my son," said Balinor. "You don't want to banish him. What you want is to _understand_."

Arthur nodded, unable to speak.

"Then try, Arthur Pendragon."

"How?" asked Arthur, opening his eyes, but Balinor was nowhere to be seen.


	6. Chapter 6

"So what do we do now?" asked Gwaine, from his perch beside Merlin on the fallen log.

Merlin just shrugged. "You can't take me back," he said. "If what you're telling me is true, then this is my forest and there isn't anywhere you _can_ take me."

"It's not about taking you anywhere, Merlin," said the knight. "It's about convincing you to come back."

"Why?"

"Because we're your friends."

Merlin shook his head, his expression full of doubt. "I'm _your_ friend," he said. "I just don't know if you all are mine."

That hurt, and from the look on Merlin's face, it must have shown.

"How can you be? Why would you be, after," he waved a hand around him, and sparks filled the air like fireflies before fading away. "After this?"

"'Course we're your friends," said Gwaine with a frown. "At least, I am. What do you take me for?"

Merlin sighed. "But do the rest of them feel the same way?"

"I'm pretty sure they do. They're worried about you right now."

But the younger man just shook his head. "You don't know that."

"Uh, yeah, actually I do," said Gwaine. "You didn't see the way everyone reacted when you collapsed."

"Really?" There might have been just the faintest hint of hope in Merlin's tone, so Gwaine decided to push a little.

"Arthur was beside himself. The queen's physician looked you over and told us what we had to do, and he jumped at the chance to help."

"Arthur does that for anybody."

"Maybe, but he especially does it for you."

Merlin didn't answer, but after a moment or so he reached up and rubbed at his forehead tiredly. "He's getting closer," he sighed.

"You can tell?"

"Sort of. It's hard to explain, but… I can feel it. I'll have to talk to him when he finally gets here."

"Aye, I'd imagine so."

"I've no idea what I'll say to him."

"Maybe say what you always say?"

"What, more lies?" Merlin looked away bitterly, and Gwaine winced.

"The two of you are best friends," he tried. "Brothers in all but blood. You might have lied to him about your magic, but I'd reckon you've probably also told him more of the truth—including things he needs to hear but doesn't want to—than anyone else he's ever met."

Merlin nodded, reluctantly at first to Gwaine's eye, then with more confidence. "I suppose that's true enough. Not enough people stand up to him when he's being a prat. Or when he doubts himself," he added with a tilt of his head. "He needs me around for that much, at least."

"So give him that, and you'll be fine."

Merlin nodded again. "I, uh… I'm not sure I'll want you around for that conversation."

That was about what Gwaine had been expecting. "Kicking me out already, are you?"

"No!" Merlin looked at him for the first time since they'd begun this conversation, his wolf-gold eyes gleaming. "Well… yes. Maybe."

"Decisive. I like it."

Merlin huffed a little laugh and shook his head. "It's not kicking you out. I just don't think Arthur would appreciate having someone else here."

"It's your head, mate; what about what _you_ appreciate? What about what you _need_?"

Merlin grimaced and dragged a hand through his hair before squeezing at the back of his neck. "I think I need to have this conversation without anyone else overhearing." He glanced up at Gwaine again, then away. "Sorry."

"Don't be," said the knight. "Like I said. We're friends, Merlin. It's about what _you_ need."

"And after I wake up?"

"So you admit you're going to?"

"I don't think Arthur will give me much choice. You know how he is. He'd probably just decide to stay here with me and, and die or something, if I decided not to come back."

"Aye, he's almost as stubborn as you are."

"Maybe." Merlin's hands were fidgeting together, clasping and unclasping the fingers. "You still haven't told me what happens after I wake up."

"Well, I reckon that will be up to you and the princess," said Gwaine. "I'd still be your friend, though. And I don't think you need to worry about the other knights, either. Percival and Elyan especially have been around other lands, and seen more magic than just the malicious kind. Plus, Merlin, whether you like it or not… we know you. I can't imagine that the person we've gotten to know over the years was all just an act, hm?"

Merlin met his eyes again, earnest. "It wasn't. I'm me. I'm just… there's just more of me than you knew, that's all."

"That's all," agreed Gwaine. "We'll be fine."

Merlin nodded and looked away again with a heavy sigh. "It's Arthur I have to worry about."

"So should I keep you company till he gets here?"

Merlin made faces for a bit, thinking, then looked up once more. He put his hand on Gwaine's forehead, and distantly Gwaine felt a little tingle, somewhere in his sleeping body. "No, but thank you. But I think it's time you woke up."

"Good luck, then."

For the first time, Merlin smiled. "Thanks."

The world around him flared gold, and Gwaine shut his eyes against the glare. When he opened them again, it was to the sight of the knights' shared chamber in Mathildis's castle.

* * *

 

Try to understand, Balinor had said. Be honest. Listen. Arthur took a deep breath, letting it out to the sound of birdsong and the rustle of leaves, though there was no wind to stir them. The golden light around him seemed finally to be dimming somewhat, and Arthur wondered if that meant that night would fall before he found Merlin.

How long had he been walking, anyway? Edgar, the queen's physician, had said that time would seem strange in this dream. Arthur had already had the thought that he should have had to stop and rest by now, yet he was as well rested as when he'd started. He felt no hunger or thirst, either.

Not that it mattered; he could probably walk forever and never find Merlin, if Merlin really wanted to keep him out. And yet, the path through the forest had appeared. He had met guardians, and they had each offered advice for what to do once he saw Merlin again. That at least seemed to imply that he _would_ see him, didn't it?

Be honest. Listen. Try to understand.

What was there to understand? Merlin had magic. Merlin had lied about it. Merlin had killed with his magic… had probably played Arthur for a fool.

"Well of course he did, brother. It would have been so easy, after all."

Morgana. Arthur raised his sword and looked about him warily, waiting for her to step out onto the path. Her mocking laughter seemed to come from all directions at once, and he spun in place. "Show yourself!"

"Why would I want to do that? You're the one who doesn't belong here."

"Somehow I doubt Merlin would want you in his mind." And he _really_ doubted that Morgana would be any sort of guardian, here to protect Merlin rather than destroy him.

"On the contrary, he can't let go of me. And I refuse to let go of him." Now she stepped out onto the path, but unlike the madwoman in black who had died at Camlann, she was resplendent in a green velvet gown that brought out her eyes.

"What do you mean, Morgana?" asked Arthur. "Why are you here?"

"Remember when I used to look like this, Arthur? Remember when I was beautiful and you loved me?"

"I never stopped loving you, Morgana. It was you who turned your back on us."

"Because you would have sided with Uther," she spat, "and murdered me for what I was!"

"No," said Arthur. "If you had come to me—"

"Why would I have done that? How _stupid_ do you think I am? I would have come to you, and you would have run to Daddy, naive as you were, expecting him to make things right… and that would have been the end of me. Morgause was the only family I ever had."

"She manipulated you into hatred."

"She understood what I was and nurtured it, rather than despising it! Just as you despise Merlin."

"I do not!" Arthur shouted, and Morgana actually stepped back a pace, eyes wide. "My God, Morgana, if I really hated Merlin, why would I have come here? Why would I have placed myself at his mercy, entered his mind, his very dreams, where he can alter reality at a whim? Why would I have faced his guardians and listened to what they had to say, rather than trying to destroy them?"

Morgana—Merlin's memory of her—lifted her chin and measured him with her gaze. "He poisoned me, you know."

"What?" It was Arthur's turn to stagger back a step.

"Morgause attacked Camelot all those years ago, and made me the focus of her spell. Everyone was falling asleep, and the Knights of Medhir would have slaughtered them all, starting with you and Uther. The only way to break the spell was to kill the focus. Hemlock," she said sweetly, as if talking about a pleasant nothing. "An entire vial of it into his water skin."

Arthur felt sick. "No. No, he wouldn't have."

She smiled at him, and it was the face of the girl he had grown up with. "Ah, the Merlin you _think_ you know wouldn't have. But you don't know Merlin at all, do you?"

Arthur's heart sank. He desperately wanted the words to be a lie, but Morgana had always preferred to wound with the truth.

"Do you remember what he said when he killed me?" she pressed. "He said he _blamed himself for what I had become_. And he was right to do so. If he hadn't poisoned me, Morgause would not have taken me away to heal me. She would not have had the _time_ she needed to sink her hooks into me and make me hate you all. But he did, and everything that came after was his fault. And just as I was twisted to hate you, now I will make _you_ hate _him_."

No. Arthur was angry, heartbroken that his trust had been betrayed yet again, but he could not hate the man who had stood by his side all those years.

"You won't," said Arthur, more sure of his words than of anything that had happened to him so far in this dream.

"No? Did you never wonder how the Great Dragon was freed from its imprisonment to attack Camelot?"

Oh God. Arthur could practically feel the blood draining from his face.

"He stood there by your side and let you assume the responsibility for Camelot, when all those deaths were on his hands in the first place."

"No." The word was barely a whisper from lips gone numb.

"Oh, yes, brother. Kilgharrah was in _league_ with Merlin, for years. Your little puppy-eyed servant boy would run to him for advice and spells to defeat Camelot's enemies. In return, Merlin swore to free him."

"There has to be more to the story."

"Oh, there probably is, but why would I tell it to you?"

Arthur tightened his grip on Excalibur, and narrowed his eyes. "How would you know any of this anyway? You never knew he had magic either."

"No, I didn't," she said. "He could have told me, so that I would not have been so alone and terrified of my own powers, but instead he left me to think I was going mad. His pet dragon instructed him not to trust me, and so he believed that overgrown lizard and did as he was told." Morgana stalked forward, a step at a time, until the point of Arthur's blade dimpled her bodice. "He left the way open for Morgause."

She couldn't possibly have known all of that, except… "You're part of Merlin's memories, too," he said.

"Of course I am." She smiled, and it was the _come-and-play_ expression Arthur remembered from his youth, with none of the cruelty he had come to associate with her. "What of it?"

"His other memories that I've encountered were guardians. Protecting Merlin."

"And so am I."

"No," said Arthur, puzzling it out. "You don't protect him. You want me to hate him. You've said so yourself."

"It's what he would deserve, isn't it?"

Arthur tilted his head. "No… but maybe that's what he thinks he deserves."

"And I am keeping you away from him, as any guardian should."

"No," said Arthur. "Not quite. You want me to _decide_ to stay away from him. To wake up from this shared dream and leave him here."

"It's what he wants."

"No, I don't think it is." It was Arthur's turn to step forward, as Morgana began to give ground.

"Are you so sure of that?" she asked.

"Yes," said Arthur, and as soon as the word left his lips he knew it was true. "Or, even if it is what he wants, it's not what he needs."

"Very good, brother." Morgana stopped suddenly, and Arthur was horrified as Excalibur passed through her breast and into her heart. Morgana, however, only smiled, and turned translucent. "I'm only a memory, Arthur. You can't destroy me."

"I'm sorry we ended the way we did," he said to her softly. It was the only goodbye he could offer.

"I know." She stepped closer, Arthur's blade passing through her body like smoke, and caressed his face with one smooth, elegant hand. "Remember me as I was. As Merlin chooses to remember me. And remember that you don't want to lose him, the way you lost me."

And with that, she vanished, between one breath and the next.

* * *

 

The path, which had been level and well-lit for Arthur's entire journey, began to slope downhill now. The trees grew more densely together, and the light, while still golden, struggled to reach through the canopy of leaves. Arthur strode forward, feeling ever more certain that he was approaching his destination at long last.

"Honesty. Listen to him. Try to understand. Remember that I don't want to lose him." Arthur sighed. He didn't want to lose Merlin, it was true. Even knowing that Merlin had released the Great Dragon and caused so much destruction, even knowing that he had poisoned Morgana and driven her toward Morgause. He had lost so many people, been betrayed so many times. He didn't want to lose Merlin, too. Didn't want to discover that Merlin had betrayed him, along with all the others.

But had he?

If only he could understand what Merlin's _motives_ had been, all this time, operating in secret right under Arthur's nose and in his court. What agenda was he pursuing? What did he want from Arthur?

"Try to understand," Arthur muttered. "Try to understand. Merlin is a _dragonlord,_ and I'm supposed to try to understand."

The light changed up ahead, the trees parting to reveal a clearing. Arthur flexed his fingers around Excalibur's hilt and crept forward, listening and watching for another guardian. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if the Great Dragon himself were to appear.

But no.

The clearing was tiny, barely large enough to fit three people. There was a fallen tree trunk spanning the entire width of the little grove, disappearing into the undergrowth on either side, and on it sat Merlin, his back to Arthur, hunched over with his head in his hands. Arthur could see no other path leading in or out.

Looking down, he found a fallen branch, little more than a twig, and stepped on it deliberately. The snap was loud in the still air, and the ambient birdsong immediately stopped. The light, if anything, seemed to grow even dimmer.

Merlin sat up a little taller, bracing his hands on the log on either side of him, but did not turn around. His head still hung low, and Arthur thought he had never seen his friend look so defeated.

His friend. Arthur still hoped that was true. "Merlin."

The other man's sides heaved in a deep breath, and a long, slow sigh. "Arthur," he said quietly. He still did not turn around.

"Will you not face me?"

"I'm not sure you want to see me like this," said Merlin.

"Let me be the judge of that."

Merlin sighed again, then seemed to gather his resolve. He lifted his head, and turned just enough to look over his shoulder at Arthur.

His eyes were gleaming gold; wolf's eyes, as Gwaine had called them. Gold, like a sorcerer's. Arthur reflexively tightened his grip on his sword, then forced himself to relax again.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asked, stepping cautiously into the clearing.

Merlin shut his eyes, and there was all the answer Arthur needed. "I wanted to," said the other man. "So many times. I almost did tell you, so many times. And then… it never seemed to be the right time."

Listen, the guardians had said. Try to understand. "Why not?"

Merlin turned back around, and would not look at Arthur as he came into the clearing the rest of the way. "Half the time you were convinced magic was evil. I couldn't tell you then, because—because I was a coward. I didn't want to lose our friendship." He huffed, something too small and sad to be a laugh. "Didn't want to lose my _head_."

And it hurt, to know that Merlin really believed that he was capable of killing his only friend.

"What about the other half? When I didn't think magic was evil?"

"The other half, when you were disposed more favorably, more willing to question whether magic could be good, I didn't want to… to manipulate you." Now he looked up, gold eyes gleaming in the gloom. "I wanted you to reach your own conclusions, without being able to say that I'd influenced your decisions. Everyone else in your court tried to force you to see things their way, sooner or later. I didn't want to do that to you."

Arthur's shoulders dropped, and Excalibur with them; when he saw that Merlin was watching the blade so closely, he sheathed it and stepped closer. Not that there was much room in the clearing to begin with; Arthur's knees were practically bumping Merlin's before he sat down.

"You've done some terrible things," he said, after a long moment of silence. "Things I don't understand. How could you have poisoned Morgana?"

Merlin frowned. "How do you know about that?"

"There were guardians, on the path through the forest. They said they were your memories, and they each told me something about you that you probably would never have told me yourself. Morgana was one of them."

Merlin paused, licking his lips nervously, before he spoke. "Morgause's spell with the Knights of Medhir needed a living focus to power its magic," he said. "Looking back, I'm not sure if Morgana even realized that the focus was her. I should have done something differently, should have spoken to her, _something_ —but the only way to break the spell was to kill the focus. All of Camelot, Arthur. You, your father, everyone. Morgause would have killed them all."

"So you fed Morgana hemlock."

Merlin closed his eyes again and nodded. "I held her in my arms as the poison took hold, and I hated myself for what I had done. I still do."

"What happened next?" asked Arthur.

"Morgause felt the spell begin to fail as Morgana began to die," said Merlin, "and I told her I would let her take Morgana and try to heal her, if she broke her spell." He sighed, a mournful, broken sound. "I should have done it differently, but at the time I didn't know what else I _could_ do. I still don't, really. Maybe I could have convinced Morgana to take the poison willingly and promised to cure her myself. I don't know."

Arthur took a deep breath. It made sense, and hindsight was always perfect. In the moment, Merlin probably hadn't had any other options. "And releasing the dragon?" he asked. "Half of Camelot was destroyed. All those innocent lives, Merlin."

"I know." A tear slipped down Merlin's cheek, glinting gold from the glow of his eyes before he shut them again, tighter this time. "Kilgharrah… he called to me the first night I came to Camelot. Told me all about my grand destiny to protect you, and even though I couldn't stand you at the time, it was… it helped, to finally feel like all my magic had a purpose, like I was made this way for a reason."

"You spoke with him?" Arthur hadn't been aware that the great beast had any intelligence to it, before Morgana's ghost had implied it.

"Constantly." Merlin huffed another little laugh. "Not that he ever had a straight answer to my questions, but he helped me save you, so many times. And then I learned that his help would have a price. He made me swear to free him. I avoided it for the longest time, until he finally told me he'd let Camelot fall and refuse to help me if I didn't free him. He made me swear on my mother's life, Arthur. I had… I _thought_ I had no choice."

"Did you know he was going to attack Camelot?"

"No. I swear it, Arthur. If I had had even an inkling, I'd have left him there to rot."

"Why didn't you command him to stay away before you freed him?"

Merlin lifted his head to look at Arthur in confusion. Those gold eyes…Arthur suppressed a shiver and reminded himself that he truly didn't want to lose Merlin, if it could be at all helped.

"Balinor was another of your guardians," he said.

The other man nodded. "I couldn't. I didn't even know Balinor was my father, until the day before we left to find him. I had a right to know that, and my mother and Gaius both kept it from me."

"Balinor told me the power is passed from father to son," he pressed, wondering if Merlin's story would match the older man's.

"That's true, but the father has to die first. I truly didn't have the ability until after he was killed."

Arthur grimaced at the memory. "And I told you no man was worth your tears. I'm sorry."

Merlin shrugged, and glanced over at Arthur through his lashes. "I feel like maybe I should be the one apologizing to you, sire. Not you to me."

"You should be," agreed Arthur. "Merlin, you—you lied to me for _years_. Did you think me a fool? Did you mock me behind my back, every time you managed to trick me?"

"No, it wasn't like that. I swear to you. I never took you for a fool."

"You swear, but how am I to believe your words?"

Merlin brought one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I don't know, sire. I don't know. I'm sorry. But then, even when I've told you the truth, you haven't believed me if you didn't want to," he added bitterly. "I doubt you want to now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Agravaine comes to mind. You threatened me with banishment rather than hear what I had to say. And I was right. He plotted against you with Morgana the entire time that you knew him."

Arthur sighed. It was only the truth, after all. "So what else have you lied to me about, besides your magic?"

"Pretty much nothing, sire," said Merlin. "Think about it. When have you ever known me _not_ to be an opinionated, insolent…"

Arthur couldn't help but smile. "…insubordinate, rude…"

"…but _bluntly_ honest…"

"…waste of a manservant, but absolutely invaluable friend."

Merlin opened his mouth to add more, but then paused, blinking his golden eyes. "Friends. Are we still?" he asked quietly. "Now that you know the worst of what I've done?"

"I've done things I've regretted too," Arthur reminded him. "And from the sound of it, you had better reasons for your misdeeds than I ever had for mine." He took a deep breath, and blew it out as he sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "So what was your purpose?" he asked. "What was your agenda for getting close to me?" He hated putting it like that, but he needed to know, once and for all, that he could trust Merlin as he always had.

"Agenda." Merlin looked at him flatly. "The first time it was making sure you didn't get _killed_ , and it was your _father_ who got me close to you, no plan of mine. I was no happier about it than you were, believe me! If it weren't for the dragon constantly telling me we had a grand destiny together, I'd have let the next knife _hit_ you." Merlin snorted and looked away. "Great _prat_ that you were."

Arthur set the bit about the destiny aside for later. "And after?"

Merlin just sighed. "When you weren't being a bully and an ass, you showed hints of being a decent person; a good man, even a great one. A great king. You started listening to people besides your father. You cared, genuinely cared, about Camelot and not about the power you would inherit." He shrugged, and slipped down to sit on the ground with his back to the fallen trunk. "You grew into the man you are now. It became an honor to serve by your side. It still is, if you'll have me."

Arthur couldn't help it; he rested one hand on the top of Merlin's head and shoved, just a little. "Well, I can't very well chop your head off after you've saved my life, idiot."

"Could still banish me," Merlin pointed out, but Arthur could hear the note of hope in his voice.

"I don't want to," he said seriously. "I can't deny that this feels too much like a betrayal, Merlin. So many people have turned on me whom I've been foolish enough to trust. So many people have… have turned their backs on me," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't bear it if you were one of them."

"I'm not," said Merlin, turning to look up at him with those golden wolf's eyes. They were eerie, true, but there were also tears standing in them, and Arthur could not doubt their sincerity. "Arthur, I'm not. I never have been and never will be. Everything I've done has been for you, and for Camelot. Even my mistakes, the things I regret, were intended to be to your benefit."

And God help him, Arthur believed him. He'd been walking for hours, maybe longer, and had had time for his temper to cool, and to really think about what Merlin's guardians had said. It might be rash, but he was ready to reach a decision.

"There's so much you still have to tell me," he said. "But I'd prefer that we not do it while I'm _holding your hand_ and _sharing dreams_. I'm not a girl, Merlin." One corner of his mouth quirked up. "Thought you would have figured that out by now."

Merlin smiled, and Arthur watched the way his shoulders dropped in relief. "What will you do with me once we're awake?"

"That's for me to decide," said Arthur, hiding a wince at the way the other man's face fell. "But it won't involve an execution or a banishment. Although I might send you to spend time with your mother for a month or so while I think."

Merlin nodded. "I understand."

"In the meantime, I have a treaty to negotiate with the Queen of Elmet, and I can't do that while we're asleep. So. Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah," said Merlin. He took a deep breath, but he was watching Arthur with that expression that said he had finally done something _right._ Something to make Merlin proud. "Yeah, I am. But you have to go first. I'm not waking up with you still in my head. That would be… weird."

"It'd be the first time it wasn't empty, I don't know how you'd cope with the sensation," quipped Arthur, but Merlin only looked at him with a serious expression.

"Wake up, Arthur," he said, and put a hand to the king's forehead. There was a flare of gold light, and Arthur shut his eyes against the glare.


	7. Chapter 7

When Arthur opened his eyes again, it was to the sight of Gwaine sitting beside him, whittling a piece of wood by the light of a lamp. The other knight glanced over, then set his knife down and leaned forward, pulling the lamp closer.

"Any luck?"

"I think so," said Arthur. "We… we talked."

"Aye," said Gwaine. "I kept him company for a bit, but he said he'd want to be alone when you got there."

"You talked to him too?" Arthur sat up, tasting the last of the sedative tea in his mouth. He grimaced, and Gwaine passed him a goblet of wine. "Thought I was the only one there."

"It was you he was worried about," said Gwaine. "Best I could do was convince him we wouldn't let you do anything stupid to him while you were in a temper."

Arthur shook his head. "Did everyone here honestly think I'd have him beheaded?" God, the thought still left a sick feeling in his gut. "Or exiled?"

"Dunno. But I'd have stopped you, even if the rest didn't."

Or gone with Merlin, Arthur suspected. Gwaine didn't make much of a secret of the fact that he was loyal to Merlin first and Arthur second. Usually, it wasn't an issue, but it could have been today. "You're a good friend to him," Arthur said.

Gwaine only shrugged. "He deserves it."

There was a sigh from the cot next to him, and they both turned to see Merlin stir. It was a bit jarring to see the way his skin still glowed gold from the effects of the Cup of Truth; Arthur had forgotten about it while they had been in Merlin's shared dream.

His eyes gleamed in the dark of the room, and he glanced over at Arthur, then Gwaine, before sitting up himself.

"How you feeling, Merlin?" asked the knight.

"Well enough," Merlin replied. He seemed a little subdued, but Arthur could hardly fault him for that. "Hullo, Arthur."

One corner of Arthur's mouth quirked up in amusement. "Hello."

"How long we were asleep?"

"It's just past supper now," said Gwaine. "The queen sent a meal up for us. Edgar, the queen's physician, only left a few minutes ago after checking on you both."

Merlin nodded. "Sorry."

"Couldn't really be helped," said Gwaine, before Arthur could get a word in. "Edgar says you're sensitive to magical energies. You probably would have reacted to the magic in the Cup the same whether we knew about you or not."

Merlin took that in for a moment before he nodded again. "How are the other knights taking it?"

"They've all taken a turn sitting with you and the princess, here," Gwaine said, indicating Arthur with his chin. "I won't say it won't take getting used to, but they're your friends, Merlin. It'd take more than a surprise like this to change that."

Arthur spoke up then, before the conversation could continue without him. "Gwaine, let the queen know we're awake," he said. "We need to eat, and then see about reconvening this council as quickly as possible."

"You sure you want to do that at this time of night?" Merlin asked.

"Mathildis and her court have been kept waiting long enough." Arthur frowned, then frowned again at the way Merlin ducked his head and hunched his shoulders. "Stop acting like you're expecting to be hit, and help me get my formal gear back on," he said.

"Right. Sorry." He stood and stepped toward the table, holding out a hand, and the jacket that Arthur had removed leapt to his grasp, startling both of the other men. "Er."

"Showing off already?" asked Gwaine. "I like it."

"That wasn't actually intentional," said Merlin. "I don't usually—um."

"It's a miracle you've survived in Camelot as long as you have," said Arthur. "Idiot."

"I'm really not, you know," said Merlin. He licked his lips nervously, and went on, "I've played the fool in order to be overlooked, because it's safer that way. But I've had to figure out plots against you and puzzle out what to do about them on my own, most times. I've saved your life, more than you know. More times than I can count. An idiot couldn't do that."

Arthur got the impression that Merlin wouldn't go back to playing the fool, either, now that his secret was out. "We'll have to talk about that later," said Arthur. "For now, we'll eat. Gwaine?"

"On my way, sire."

* * *

 

Mathildis was perfectly willing to reconvene the council session after the evening meal, to Arthur's relief. The session itself, however, was strange; Merlin tried to go back to pouring wine and standing in the shadows like the other servants, but Mathildis and Edgar wouldn't let him.

First they asked after his health, as everyone was being seated, and asked Merlin directly, rather than asking Arthur how his servant fared. Arthur put that down to politeness and a worry that they had insulted their guests, but later on it continued. Mathildis, and later other members of her court, would raise questions about Camelot's treatment of magic users or Arthur's governance, and they directed those questions to Merlin at least as often as they did Arthur. Merlin stammered his way through his answers at first, but gradually grew more confident, until he sounded like he had always been one of Arthur's chief advisers. It was very strange.

The king glanced around and saw that all his knights noticed it as well—how could they not?—but none of them seemed inclined to comment on it. Well, Percival rarely commented on anything, and Leon generally followed Arthur's lead. Arthur wasn't sure why Gwaine and Elyan kept quiet, although he did mark the way Gwaine kept hiding a smile behind his hand whenever someone spoke directly to Merlin and not to Arthur. All along, however, the queen's eyes glowed gold, and her advisers' glowed with either gold or green, and their demeanor suggested that unlike most negotiation sessions Arthur had grown accustomed to, Mathildis held no ulterior motive. Every question was in earnest, and every answer seemed to be as well.

Most strange. Not unwelcome, but certainly strange.

Finally the hour grew late enough that Merlin was yawning in his corner, and Mathildis declared the negotiations complete. "We are satisfied, and it seems that we have met Camelot's conditions, is that not correct?"

"I am satisfied, my lady, yes," said Arthur. "Camelot will accept these lands, and any citizens of Elmet who wish to remain on them, and treat them as fairly as we treat any of our own subjects."

"And the laws regarding the persecution of magic users?"

"Will be reviewed," said Arthur. It was the most he was willing to concede, without learning more about how magic worked.

"Our subjects will become your subjects," Mathildis pointed out with a smile, "so I hope that will be the case." Then she turned to Merlin, where he was just topping off Arthur's goblet, and added, "And I trust that Emrys will see to it that they are well cared for, if they should happen to have magic."

There was a murmur around the table, and Arthur looked up to see that Merlin had gone a little pale. "What is she talking about?" he asked in an undertone.

"That's, Emrys, that's a name the druids have for me," said Merlin. "But I don't know how the queen could have come to know that."

"The druids have a special _name_ for you?"

Merlin sighed, lowering his lashes to cover the gold in his eyes. "Long story."

"Which you will tell me, later."

"Of course, sire."

Arthur shook his head. Apart from what the guardians had told him, who knew what else his servant had been getting up to behind his back? "Well, answer her," he muttered.

"I will do my best, Your Majesty," said Merlin carefully. He and Mathildis exchanged a long glance before the queen smiled; at what, Arthur couldn't say.

"I have no doubt," she said, and looked away in polite dismissal.

* * *

 

Merlin puttered about Arthur's chambers, building up the fire and putting out candles, as Arthur changed into his night clothes. It was fully dark outside, and even Merlin's hands were glowing in the dark with the power he wielded.

"So the druids have a special name for you," said Arthur tiredly.

"I didn't know about it until I came to Camelot," offered Merlin. "It was one of the things Kilgharrah told me." Arthur waited, and eventually Merlin added, "There are prophecies, apparently."

"Prophecies." As tired as Arthur was, he could still feel his eyebrows climbing his forehead.

"About Emrys, and the Once and Future King. I don't know much about them," he admitted. "Haven't had much time to seek out the druids, after all."

"Tell me what you do know." Then he frowned, remembering something else that Merlin had said in their shared dream. "Is this something to do with what the dragon said about your destiny or whatnot?"

"Yeah." Merlin yawned hugely. "'Scuse me."

"I'm waiting."

Merlin sighed and sat down in one of the chairs around the dinner table, propping his head up in obvious fatigue. "You're supposed to bring about a golden age of peace and prosperity for all of Albion, not just Camelot," he said. "And as far as I know, I'm just supposed to keep you alive so you can do the rest."

"That's it?" It sounded like an impossible task, and yet, Arthur already had more allies on his side than Uther had ever dreamed possible. And now Elmet was actually ceding part of its lands to Camelot, with the provision that he not slaughter their magic users.

"'That's it', he says. Do you have any idea how many people have tried to kill you in the ten years that I've known you? Because I don't. I've lost _track_."

"And I've never given you credit for any of it, because I didn't know about it," mused Arthur. "Then why haven't you left me before now?" _Why are we still friends_ , he thought, but did not say.

"I'll never leave you," said Merlin earnestly. "My place is by your side. It always has been." He paused and looked at his hands, still glowing in the dark of the chamber. "I just didn't think you'd want me there after this."

Arthur sighed. "Well, I must be as big of an idiot as you are, then, because I do. Want you by my side, that is."

Merlin smiled, still tired, but genuine. "Just you try getting rid of me now," he said. "It'd take an army, and even then I wouldn't place my bets on the army."

Hm. That raised a thought, didn't it, one that Mathildis and the others had hinted at: "How powerful are you, anyway?"

The other man shrugged, visibly uncomfortable. "Pretty strong," he said, but Arthur knew a dodge when he saw one.

" _How_ strong?"

Merlin grimaced. "Well. There's something else in the prophecies. I'm supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth." He glanced up to see Arthur's raised eyebrows, and added quickly, "I don't know if that's true! But… Gaius has said that we haven't yet found the limit of what I can do. So."

Arthur sighed. " _So_ much you have to tell me," he said. "But it can wait until tomorrow, I think."

"I'm not sure, but I think it already is tomorrow. That council session went on forever."

"Till daylight, then," said Arthur. "Put out the rest of the candles, would you?" Merlin did, but the light in the room didn't change. Merlin's magic still glowed through his skin, and even from underneath his clothing a little, enough to illuminate the chamber. "All right, that's ridiculous."

"Yes well, your eyes look eerie over there in the dark when I can't see the rest of you," said Merlin. "Like an owl in a tree."

"Better that than a… what was it you called me, once upon a time? A bone-idle toad?"

Merlin grinned. "Hopefully this will fade by morning," he said. "And if it doesn't, at least it will be less noticeable."

"Hide under a blanket so you don't wake the knights," said Arthur.

He was closing his eyes to sleep but still heard Merlin's huff of exasperation. "Of course, sire."

* * *

 

Arthur eventually woke on his own, hours later. By the light streaming in through the window, it had to be at least midday, if not later, and he sighed, wondering how the queen would take them all sleeping in so late. Merlin was supposed to wake him and prevent him from potentially causing insult, damn it.

He was sitting up and just scrubbing his hands over his face when he heard the door open behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Arthur saw Merlin balancing a tray in his hands and trying to shut the door with his shoulder.

"Don't you have magic for that?" he asked, and Merlin startled, barely catching the contents of the tray in time.

"You're awake."

"Your grasp of the obvious remains as acute as ever. Also, you didn't answer my question."

Merlin shrugged. His hands and eyes seemed to be back to normal, though with the bright sun shining on him, it was hard to say for certain. "Habit, I suppose. I've hidden my magic my entire life." He gave Arthur a half-smile over one shoulder as he set the tray down and began laying out the items on it; plates and platters of food that made Arthur's stomach growl. "Feels a little weird to be talking about it now."

Arthur supposed that made sense. "And you've never had an agenda, all this time?" he couldn't help but ask.

"I dunno. Does survival count as an agenda?"

"You've never tried to manipulate me into becoming someone who would give you what you wanted?"

"Pssh." Merlin shook his head and reached for a bite of cheese. "I've tried to make you see when you were being an ass," he offered, "but I could never pressure you about magic without giving myself away, now could I? Best I could do was give you my honest opinion, when you asked for it or when you seemed open to hearing it."

"You once told me there was no place for magic in Camelot," Arthur pointed out.

The other man sighed and suddenly looked years older. Weary, in a way that Arthur had never really noticed before. "Mordred was prophesied to kill you," he said. "The Disir made it sound like you could let magic come back, and they'd save his life—and then he'd kill you— _or_ you could refuse to let magic come back, and then they'd let Mordred die, and you'd be safe."

"You went against your own needs to protect me," Arthur realized. Merlin just shrugged uncomfortably. "How many times have you done that?"

"I dunno," the other man muttered. "Never really thought about it like that."

"There's this prophecy that says your job is to protect me," he pressed. "What about you? Who protects you, and makes sure you can fulfill _your_ destiny?"

"I take care of myself, I guess?" Merlin looked as though he would rather be anywhere else. "I'm not the one who has a grand destiny uniting Albion. I just have to make sure you live long enough to achieve everything you're meant to achieve."

He must have sensed Arthur's next question, or seen the expression on his face when he glanced up, because his whole demeanor changed in an instant. He leaned forward, radiating sincerity. "I don't do it for that," he said. "I did in the beginning, but Arthur, you have to know you've proven yourself countless times since we first met. I serve _you_ , not some prophecy. If I were only interested in some agenda, I'd have tried to get you to bring magic back when you talked to the Disir. I care about you more than I care about fulfilling the words of a bunch of long-dead, ancient seers." He leaned back in his seat, frowning thoughtfully. "You're my friend. I'm yours. All my magic is for you and pretty much always has been. This was… this was what I was _made_ for. I told you once, long ago, and it's still true—I'm happy to be your servant, till the day I die."

And there was a part of Arthur that still wanted to be angry, that still wasn't sure if he could trust a word Merlin said, but… they'd had ten years of camaraderie together. Ten years of saving one another's lives, and he had the guardians inside Merlin's own mind reinforcing the trust that he'd always felt. "I don't want you to die," he said simply. "But you've had to do all this, for me, in secret. That stops now."

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean? I won't stop protecting you, even if you order it. You can't make me. And I won't give up my magic for you, because I literally can't. It's been with me since I was born."

"What I mean, Merlin, is that you've taken care of me all this time, and I strongly suspect that no one has taken care of you. I certainly haven't, because I haven't known to. That's what stops now," Arthur said. "No more secrets between us. I've learned the worst from being inside your head. I want to learn the rest. I have a _right_ to know the rest." Merlin nodded, tentatively, and Arthur went on, "If you're going to watch out for me, it's only fair that I watch out for you."

Slowly, Merlin smiled.

* * *

 

"Thank you for coming all this way, Arthur Pendragon," said Mathildis. They were in the courtyard, preparing to mount up and return to Camelot, and the queen and her entourage were saying their official goodbyes; for some reason, Arthur had insisted on having Merlin at his side while the royalty spoke, so he could hear every word. "I learned a great deal from you, and I have high hopes for the future of your kingdom."

"Queen Mathildis," said Arthur, bowing over her hand. "I can honestly say that I learned a great deal as well."

"Though much of it was unexpected, I take it," she replied with a smile and a glance at Merlin. He blushed, and shifted on his feet, but was saved from answering by Arthur.

"Indeed. Tell me… what were your criteria when you had us drink from the Cup of Truth?" he asked. "You had said that you could not tell me before the council session."

"It was a simple enough test," said Mathildis. "I wished to have those who were trustworthy in my presence; not only those whom I could trust to treat fairly with me in this present matter, but those who were trustworthy in general and true to their word. Those whom I might be able to trust in the future as well, as allies and friends. You well know that the burden of the crown is a lonely one. I wished to know those with whom I could share that burden and ease my own loneliness." She narrowed her eyes and smiled shrewdly. "In case you were worried, Emrys—your Merlin—passed that test as thoroughly as you did, and your knights. I hope you will be proud of him and his accomplishments."

Merlin could feel his face heat in embarrassment.

"I am still learning of his accomplishments," Arthur replied. "But what I have already learned has taught me that he has done more for me than I ever could have guessed."

"Yes, I suspect that the legends they tell of you in the future will refer to your wise adviser Merlin as often as they refer to the great king, Arthur."

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "Legends, milady? You flatter me, but I doubt there will be anything of the kind. I have done nothing worthy of such fame."

"I disagree," countered Mathildis easily, "but time will tell." She glanced Merlin's way again and smiled more widely. "Farewell, Emrys."

"Are you really the Fisher King's daughter?" he blurted, then wanted to smack himself in the face for his impertinence. From the look on Arthur's face, he was not alone. But he couldn't help it; the words had come out of nowhere.

Mathildis, however, simply nodded. "I am," she said. "You committed an act of great kindness and mercy when you allowed him to finally die, restoring Elmet and all her people to the land."

Arthur turned his head slowly to boggle at Merlin, who shuffled his feet awkwardly. "It just… seemed the thing to do at the time?" he said, and Mathildis laughed.

"Legends, indeed," she said, and curtseyed, first to Arthur and then to Merlin himself. He glanced at Arthur, bewildered, but Arthur only glared and tilted his head toward her as if to say, _Bow, idiot_ , so Merlin did.

Arthur bowed as well, and then they crossed to where the knights waited with their horses. Arthur was looking at him strangely, as he had off and on ever since they had awakened from the shared dream. Ever since he had learned of Merlin's magic. Still, Arthur didn't seem too furious, and he had said he was going to think about what to do but had no plans to either execute Merlin or banish him, so Merlin would take what he could get. They had stood side by side against all foes for a decade now, and he had hopes that they would be together for decades more.

"Ready, sire?" asked Leon, once they both were in the saddle.

"As I'll ever be," he said, looking at Merlin, who nodded before Arthur turned to address Leon directly. "We've a long road ahead; the sooner we start, the more ground we'll cover."

"Of course, sire," said Leon, and he raised his arm in signal to the rest of the caravan.

" _You_ are going to tell me _everything_ ," said Arthur quietly.

"What, on the road?"

"Yes."

Merlin blinked. "That could take a while, sire."

"Fortunately we have a while, don't we, Merlin?" answered the king, before he nudged his mount into place in the caravan.

Merlin followed. "In front… you want me to tell you all this in front of everybody?"

"They've proven they can be trusted," pointed out Arthur, and Merlin felt the beginnings of a mild, lighthearted despair begin to take over.

"I'm doomed."

"That depends on you," said Arthur, with that smug smile he got when he knew Merlin was backed into a corner.

"I could still turn you into a toad, you know."

"You won't."

"I _could_."

"But you won't. I'm pretty sure that's treason, after all."

Merlin gave an exaggerated sigh. "Oh sure, nothing at all like the treason I was committing on a regular basis to save your sorry hide."

"Exactly," said Arthur, suddenly sober. "To save my—to save me. I'm not going to punish that, Merlin. Get used to the idea."

Merlin nodded. "I'm not much of a storyteller," he warned. "I'll probably get everything all jumbled up and out of order."

"Just like the rest of you, then," said Arthur, and Merlin leveled a flat glare at him. Arthur, the prat, naturally only laughed. "Just do your best. I'll interrupt you if I have any questions."

Merlin took a deep breath. "All right then," he said. "Once we're out of the city. All right."

And the rest of their journey home was filled with Merlin's voice, shaky at first but gradually more confident, telling the stories of all he had done to protect Arthur, his knights, and Camelot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and for your kind words. Have a great holiday season no matter what you celebrate, assuming you celebrate at all. :)
> 
> If you want to leave extra kudos, you're welcome to stop by [my Tumblr blog](http://peaceheather.tumblr.com) and say hello.


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